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Tag: Tokyo Film Festival 2024

  • Tokyo: Filmmaker Midi Z, Actress Zhao Liying on the Universal Themes of Mystery Thriller ‘The Unseen Sister’

    Tokyo: Filmmaker Midi Z, Actress Zhao Liying on the Universal Themes of Mystery Thriller ‘The Unseen Sister’

    Taiwanese-Burmese filmmaker Midi Z caused a stir and gained good notices with his 2019 film Nina Wu, which dealt with the exploitation of women in entertainment, and was released in the midst of the global #MeToo movement, a long overdue public reckoning for powerful men who had committed acts of sexual violence and misconduct.

    Selected for the main competition at this year’s Tokyo International Film Festival, Z’s new film, The Unseen Sister, outwardly at least, has similar themes to Nina Wu — that is, the habitual abuse of women in the entertainment industry as well as the trials of women at the margins of society.

    Adapted from Zhang Yueran’s book Unseen Sister, the film tells the story of two sisters, one who is born officially as Qiao Yan and the other who takes on the name of Qiao Yan but lives in a twilight world of illegality, under the constant threat of being discovered. After swapping identities at a young age, the sisters grow up to very different lives in two different countries. The real Qiao Yan lives on the fringes of poverty in Myanmar and the assumed Qiao Yan becomes a famed actress in China. Fate, inevitably, brings them back together.

    Zhao Liying in ‘The Unseen Sister.’

    Shanghai Linmon Pictures

    The film stars Zhao Liying (The Legend of Shen Li, The Story of Minglan Legend of Chu Qiao, Legend of Lu Zhen and The Journey of Flower and Wild Bloom), a prominent television actor in China who is making the transition to features. The cast also includes Huang Jue, Xin Zhilei and Chinese rapper Gem.

    The Unseen Sister is produced by Shanghai Linmon Pictures, and is part of the company’s push into feature films with international appeal. After playing in Tokyo, the film will screen at the Singapore International Film Festival in December.

    During the Tokyo Film Festival, The Hollywood Reporter spoke to Z and Zhao about The Unseen Sister, the challenges of making a mainstream commercial film with arthouse credentials and the universal themes of the feature.

    Is The Unseen Sister the first mainstream Chinese film you’ve done?

    MIDI Z Yes, that’s correct. It’s the first mainstream film that I’ve done, in comparison to the past ones. This is the most commercial film, in terms of production budget and the production scale. All my earlier films, were a little bit smaller with less people on set, this one, it’s over 300 people on set. Ultimately, the core of the story and the core of the whole production is very Chinese. It’s about Chinese people. It’s about family. It’s about the values that Chinese people value a lot.

    Were there any specific challenges working on a bigger scale for you as a director? Did your process change in any way?

    MIDI Z I think the most important part [for me as a director] is communication, specifically communication with the actors. Within a story, within a production, the chemistry and the performance of the actors are actually much more important than the story itself, because the actors are the people that brings out the story. And so in the two months, right before production, there was actually a lot of communication between me and the actors, and the actors met very frequently to rehearse and to go through the story together to get the chemistry and to get that story ready for rolling. It is very valuable and that really, really helped me to bring out the story through the performance of the actors.

    Zhao Liying and Huang Jue in ‘The Unseen Sister.’

    Shanghai Linmon Pictures

    So in the film, there’s the use of two languages, Mandarin and the Yunnan dialect. Why did you choose to use two different dialects?

    MIDI Z It’s because of the story. It’s because of the setting of the character. The character is traveling from Yunnan to Beijing.

    For you as an actor, Zhao, do you speak the Yunnan dialect? If not, was that a real challenge to get right?

    ZHAO LIYING No I don’t speak it. We spent about a month before production to work on the dialect specifically to go through all of the lines that the script has in the Yunnan dialect, so that we can be more comfortable during production. That’s how we overcame the difficulty working with a different dialect.

    As an outsider, is the use of multiple dialects of Mandarin unusual for a mainstream Chinese film?

    MIDI Z It’s becoming more and more common now to have a different dialect because there are a lot of different people traveling between different cities in China, a lot more exposure to dialects. The Sichuan dialect, the Guizhou dialect, for example, are becoming more and more common in content, and I think that’s great.

    Watching The Unseen Sister, I felt the sensibilities, and perhaps the audience for this film, would be more international, particularly with the themes and ideas the film deals with. Is that fair to say?

    MIDI Z Ultimately, this is a very, very Chinese film. And when we think about Chinese nature of the film, there are two different parts to it. The first part is the core of the story itself — the values of the story is very Chinese. It’s about the individual and their family, and how the individuals wants and desires clash with the family’s wants and desires and how it came out to look. And then when we come to the second part of it, which is the outside of the story, which is what we see visually — the landscape, the location. The aesthetics of it, like all the production design, the architecture that we see. There was a lot of snow and it’s a very poetic aesthetic style, a very Chinese style.

    And the themes are universal themes. My films are really expressive about people’s lives. In order to speak to the audience, you really have to understand what lives they’re going through. And really this movie is about women and what they’re going through in society, the difficulties that they’re facing and their struggle. Their fight against whatever it is that is suppressing them, their desire and their yearning for freedom and for a better life.

    Zhao Liying in ‘The Unseen Sister.’

    Shanghai Linmon Pictures

    Zhao, regarding your role as Qiao Yan, she is very complex and she’s also a prominent actress like you are in real life. What attracted you to the project? And also did you relate to the fame and industry-related pressures Qiao Yan goes through?

    ZHAO LIYING I chose this character and chose this project because I really wanted to challenge myself. What really attracted me to the project was really Midi’s style and Midi’s very unique narrative style of his movies and his stories. And honestly, the character being an actress is really just a setting for the character in the story. And it isn’t about this one character in this one setting. It’s really about the entirety, like the overall story and the structure and style and the narration that really attracted me.

    Regarding whether the character was relatable… obviously, the story, it’s very dramatic. Sure I can relate to a certain extent, but of course these are very dramatic experiences that the character is going through. It doesn’t really happen in real life. The overall pressure, the suppression that [Qiao Yan] faces at work, I can definitely relate to that specific thing. There’s a scene where my character is filming a scene in hospital and she’s being stabbed with a needle, that really triggered me.

    Xin Zhilei in ‘The Unseen Sister.’

    Shanghai Linmon Pictures

    Midi, The Unseen Sister has some outward similarities with your last film Nina Wu, as there’s an actress as the lead character, she’s exploited by the men around her, and the entertainment industry is portrayed as quite negative. Why have you focused on stories around women being mistreated?

    MIDI Z I grew up in a family that is dominated by female. I grew up under the protection of my mom and my sister. They are both wonderful women. My interactions with my family affected my considerations when it came to storytelling and designing characters. This comprehension of my mom and my sister’s lives also affected me when whenever I write and create a female character. In The Unseen Sister, Qiao Yan really expresses this type of woman that is already successful to the standards of our current society, she’s famous, she’s wealthy, and yet she still faces these types of difficulties. This situation can really affect anyone.

    Abid Rahman

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  • Tokyo: VFX Pioneer George Murphy Talks AI, Virtual Production and the Future of Filmmaking

    Tokyo: VFX Pioneer George Murphy Talks AI, Virtual Production and the Future of Filmmaking

    New technologies led by artificial intelligence and virtual production are profoundly changing visual effects but are still “another paintbrush” in the service of storytelling, says VFX veteran George Murphy.

    “Virtual production is not just a tool for VFX; it’s a storytelling tool that allows actors to feel fully immersed in the scene, instead of having to imagine everything against a blank screen,” Murphy tells The Hollywood Reporter, in an interview at the Tokyo International Film Festival ahead of appearing on the Motion Picture Association panel, Filmmaking 2.0: The Evolution of Real-Time VFX for Traditional Filmmakers.

    Murphy, a VFX supervisor and creative director at DNEG in London​, made his entry into filmmaking with Steven Spielberg’s Hook (1991), a production hailed for its seminal VFX, in particular the use of projected matte painting. Computerized effects were very much in their infancy when he joined Industrial Light & Magic (ILM). He was part of a small team that pioneered digital compositing for films and he quickly recognized the potential of these ground-breaking tools to transform filmmaking.

    “At ILM, we worked with Unix scripts and early computer graphics programs, but it was clear that these tools could create more believable, integrated images than anything before,” he says.

    Murphy’s background was in another visual medium. “I started out fully intending to be a freelance photojournalist, covering the real world,” he recalls. “In an odd way, it was those skills in capturing reality that prepared me for fabricating worlds that don’t exist.”​

    Creating those worlds and making them look believable won him an Oscar and BAFTA for Forrest Gump, and has seen him supervise effects on productions including Planet of The Apes, Mission: Impossible, Jurassic Park, The Matrix sequels and Black Sails.

    One of the biggest game-changers in recent years has been the development of virtual production, says Murphy. This technology, popularized by The Mandalorian, allows filmmakers to create virtual environments on LED screens in real time, replacing traditional green-screen backdrops.

    Murphy experienced the power of this technology firsthand on the set of Murder on the Orient Express back in 2016, where a train car was surrounded by LED screens displaying high-resolution footage of the world speeding by. “The actors didn’t have to pretend they were looking out at a snowy mountain scene. They were immersed in it, and that makes a huge difference in their performance. Things that were going past would actually catch their eyes,” he notes, saying it led to a more authentic feel and therefore immersive experience for the audience as well.

    Responsive tools like Epic Games’ Unreal Engine and Unity have also revolutionized the VFX workflow. “These tools allow us to create, edit, and test our work in real-time, which wasn’t possible a decade ago. You can see the result instantly instead of waiting hours for a render,” Murphy explains.

    He likens this change to moving from analog to digital photography: “The whole process has become much more flexible and collaborative, allowing us to explore creative choices and see what works best in the moment.”​

    With AI advancing at a bewildering pace, it is quickly finding a place in the VFX toolkit. For Murphy, AI offers both opportunities and challenges. He points out that AI can streamline labor-intensive tasks like rotoscoping (manually isolating elements within a scene) or tracking (following a moving object or character in footage).

    “With AI, we can now accomplish in minutes what used to take hours or even days,” he says. “It frees up artists to focus on the more creative aspects of their work”​

    Nevertheless, he believes that for all its power, machine learning isn’t a substitute for the creativity and ideation of a filmmaker, for now at least. “AI can process huge amounts of data, and it can imitate styles based on what it’s seen. But it doesn’t experience emotions, so it can’t capture the essence of human storytelling. That’s something only artists who have lived and felt can bring to a project,” he suggests. ​

    Another exciting development for Murphy is the expansion of storytelling across different media and platforms. During his work on The Matrix sequels, he witnessed the potential of what he calls “story worlds.” The Matrix franchise extended its narrative through video games, animated shorts, and comics, allowing fans to explore the story beyond the main films. Murphy sees this approach as crucial for the future of entertainment, as audiences look for ways to engage more deeply with stories.

    This “multiverse” approach to storytelling has become increasingly popular, especially with the rise of streaming and interactive platforms. Murphy believes that as technology advances, audiences will be able to interact with story worlds in new ways—perhaps even experiencing them in virtual reality or augmented reality. “We’re only scratching the surface of what’s possible,” he says. “Once VR becomes more accessible, the way we tell and experience stories is going to change fundamentally”​

    Looking forward, Murphy is enthusiastic about the possibilities that technology opens up but also concerned about the potential loss of craftsmanship.

    “There’s an artistry to physical effects, to building something by hand, and that’s still incredibly valuable. It gives you a grounding in reality that’s essential, even in digital work,” he explains​, adding that many of the best physical model makers went on to VFX careers.

    Ultimately, Murphy believes that technology should serve the story, not the other way around, and remains optimistic about the future of filmmaking.

    “These tools are just new brushes in our paintbox,” he says. “They allow us to push the boundaries of what’s possible. But the artist’s hand will always be there, guiding the story and making sure it resonates with the audience.”

    Gavin Blair

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  • ‘Lust in the Rain’ Review: A Surreal, Sexual Japanese Wartime Fantasy That’s Never Quite Believable Enough

    ‘Lust in the Rain’ Review: A Surreal, Sexual Japanese Wartime Fantasy That’s Never Quite Believable Enough

    You don’t necessarily have to be a fan of Japanese manga master Yoshiharu Tsuge to appreciate Lust in the Rain, a sprawling World War II-era fantasy adapted from an autobiographical collection first published in the early 1980s. But it certainly helps.

    All over the map in terms of tone, content and genre, director Shinzo Katayama’s ambitious period piece strives to reproduce the surreal sexual ambiance of Tsuge’s wartime recollections, which shift from action to comedy to eroticism in a single swoop. Not for everyone’s taste, and perhaps best suited for local audiences, the film is more admirable for its swing-for-the-fences direction than for its exhausting plot twists.

    Lust in the Rain

    The Bottom Line

    Well-made but hard to grasp.

    Venue: Tokyo International Film Festival (Competition)
    Cast: Ryo Narita, Eriko Nakamura, Go Morita, Naoto Takenaka, Xing Li
    Director-screenwriter: Shinzo Katayama, based on the manga by Yoshiharu Tsuge

    2 hours 12 minutes

    Katayama cut his chops as an assistant director for Bong Joon-ho before making two features, including the well-received 2021 serial killer flick, Missing. But while he channels an energy and style similar to the Korean maestro, Katayama lacks Bong’s cutthroat precision and wicked sense of humor.

    Clocking in at over two hours, Lust in the Rain overstays its welcome during an initial 80 minutes where nothing totally makes sense, before honing in on more substantial themes in a final hour that leaps between several alternative realities — to the point we never quite know what’s real or not.

    At first, Katayama tosses us into a bizarre love triangle between an aspiring manga artist, Yoshio (Ryo Narita, Your Name); an older novelist, Imori (Go Morita); and a local femme fatale, Fukuko (Eriko Nakamura, August in Tokyo), who may or not have murdered her own husband. The time setting is unclear, as is the setting itself: The three live in a remote village called North Town, which is separated by border guards from another place called South Town.

    The timid Yoshio, who serves as a rather unreliable narrator, is beset by sexual fantasies he transforms into panels for his comic books. These include a scene at the very start — and from which the film takes its title — where he slyly coerces a young woman into undressing during a torrential downpour, then proceeds to rape her in the mud. (A rape, it should be added, that transforms into passionate sex.)

    In real life, Yoshio is infatuated with Fukuko, who moves into his cramped apartment along with the equally shady Imori. The two make loud love while Yoshio lies in the next room, creating even more sexual tension between the trio. It feels like one of the men may wind up killing the other. Or else like they may all agree to form a happy throuple. It’s hard to tell.

    Things get weirder from there, although they slightly fall into place as well. Without spoiling too much (the better parts are in the second half) we realize that all we’ve been seeing actually involves Japan’s occupation of northern China during WWII, including massacres inflicted on the civilian population. Suddenly, Yoshio’s fantasies take on an altogether different sheen — they seem less the ravings of lustful artist than of a soldier traumatized by nonstop bloodshed.

    It’s too much and perhaps too late. Katayama never quite sustains our interest while oscillating between coming-of-age desires, gory atrocities, and erotic surrealism. A prime example of this is a sequence that has Yoshio following the mystery girl from his dreams down several dark alleyways, until he witnesses her getting violently struck by a car. He finds her body lying lifeless in a rice paddy, then prepares to defile it with his finger.

    Again, this is an acquired taste — one that’s probably best suited to lovers of Tsuge’s watakushi manga (a form of literary autobiography specific to Japan), where the author gives free reign to memory, imagination and his all-powerful libido. Katayama works overtime to translate Tsuge’s obsessions to the screen, employing a grandiose style for the war scenes and a sleek intimacy to all the sex, whether real or fantasized.  

    The would-be romance at the heart of Lust in the Rain is carried by Narita and Nakamura, who are convincing as two lost souls that never quite connect. The problem is that so much of the film rests on shaky ground, we never believe in what we’re seeing. And if you don’t believe, then why should you care? In its closing sections, Katayama’s intimate epic plays out like a twisted take on The English Patient, where love and war collide in crazy ways. And yet the stakes never seem high enough.

    Jordan Mintzer

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