Weekly Recap 22 | Violet Evergarden, Garden of Sinners, Ran, The Hobbit & more

My goodness, this week was absolutely packed with films. I watched and completed 3 series in just these 7 days, plus I rewatched Nobody and The Father. I won’t be re-reviewing those two though, as they were just as good on a rewatch, and the latter continues to be my favourite film of 2020. 

Let’s start off with a big disappointment, that being Last and First Men, the directorial debut of Johann Johannson, who is best known as the composer for several of Villeneuve’s films. The story, as described by Letterboxd, is: “as the end approaches inexorably, the last humans, living millions of years into the future, send a message to the humanity of the present that is both a plea for help and a warning, but also an epic tale of evolution, decline and hope.” 

Well, this was a complete waste of time. Comprising mostly still images of a flat, fuzzy greyness, the cinematography is utterly boring, especially since the shots don’t correlate at all with what Tilda Swinton is reading out. This feels a lot more like an audio book rather than a film, and what’s being read out simply isn’t captivating enough for something so visually shallow. As the film progresses, some photography does become a little more adventurous, but this is basically just a tour of an art gallery, since while some of the pictures might be nice to gaze at in their own right, when strung together so dreadfully loosely it all becomes a futile endeavour. Johansson’s Last and First film just isn’t worth the time, since not even his eerie music is all that impressive as it never reaches the same ethereal heights as the minimalist masters like Philip Glass and Max Richter. If you like this sort of film, then fine, but I’ve seen this style being used far more masterfully in the likes of Man with a Movie Camera, La Jetee, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Koyaanisqatsi, and Under the Skin – I definitely recommend watching those over this, as their gorgeous visuals are actually able to tell a far more immersive story than whatever the hell this is.

Another disappointment now, in the form of what many perceive to have revolutionised the zombie genre: 28 Days Later. Twenty-eight days after a killer virus was accidentally unleashed from a British research facility, a small group of London survivors are caught in a desperate struggle to protect themselves from the infected. Perhaps a simple and now overdone premise, but these sorts of films are supposed to be fun… right? 

And yet this is one of the ugliest films I’ve ever seen. The awful camera quality with it’s greasy texture is just revolting to look at, so when the writing, performances and plot are equally poor, it’s little surprise I found this to be a most miserable experience. I certainly laughed a great deal, but only because everything about it is so bad.From the beginning it’s terrible, with stilted dialogue, atrocious lighting, obnoxious close-ups, garish colours and a disappointing lack of zombies. Yet it miraculously keeps getting worse when they reach the army base, then going on for even longer than it deserves to completely tarnish any vague positive feelings I may have felt towards it. Danny Boyle has such an amusingly inconsistent style, and although I’ve never much been a fan of his, this is absolutely the worst of his directing. But even more disappointing is Alex Garland, whose first screenplay is utterly abysmal, which is why I find it so incredible he would go on to make such masterpieces as Ex Machina, Annihilation and Devs when this film is so bad.

Let’s escape these two bad films by going to Japan, as I have two anime series and a samurai movie to share with you today. First of all is Violet Evergarden. Raised as a killing machine in The Great War, a young girl called Violet Evergarden is now faced with the daunting task of integrating into society. Realising her emotional ineptitude, she becomes enchanted by the prospect of working as an Auto Memory Doll – writers who extract the right words and emotions from their clients to craft beautiful letters – so that she may finally understand the enigmatic feelings that dwell inside of her. 

This series has great animation – as fitting of its reputation – with many emotional beats that definitely hit home. It takes quite a long while to get going though, as the narrative keeps going round in circles to hammer in the exact same point over and over again, which did make it slightly annoying to watch since the writing is otherwise impeccable. But the titular character, Violet Evergarden, is absolutely brilliant and by far the highlight of the show. Her inability to understand emotions starts off amusing, before becoming the focal point of the narrative and the prime manner in which the emotional beats become so poignant. There’s also a surprising amount of fighting – the way it’s animated and the themes it deals with reminding me of Vinland Saga a number of times – which ran the danger of feeling incongruous to the tender drama that dominates this anime, but in actual fact manages to assist and even elevate those gentle emotions with just how damn heartfelt it all is. I think Violet Evergarden is flawed, and I would even go as far as to say not everything it tried to do worked on me, but the way it explores its themes with so much honesty is commendable to say the least, presented in the most enchanting way possible. So even though I don’t think this is a masterpiece, it is nevertheless a great story with beautiful animation and enticingly complex characters.

My second anime isn’t in the typical 20 minute episode format, as each of the 8 entries is in fact a feature length film (well, they vary in length, from 30 minutes to 2 hours). The anime in question is none other than The Garden of Sinners, which was in fact recommended to me by my most generous supporter on Patreon. This anime starts off extremely mystifying and downright confusing; for me, that’s what intrigued me a great deal, but it is understandable if it is off putting to some since it isn’t until the 5th film that the masterful storytelling is finally paid off, with the 7th film then concluding the series in the most beautiful and emotional way possible. The individual episodes certainly aren’t the best, but throughout I was completely hooked by the twisting plots full of subliminal frames and time skips, and utterly engrossed in the disjointed but gripping narrative that connects this series like a silky spider web. 

The first four episodes focus on a single element, with some doing their individual task better than others: Overlooking View builds atmosphere, A Study in Murder develops the characters, Remaining Sense of Pain endeavours to craft a complex plot, and The Hollow Shrine dabbles in philosophy. Paradox Spiral, my personal favourite of the series, is the culmination of all that has come before it; while each of these episodes were rather hindered by their fixation on just a single story element at the expense of the rest, Paradox Spiral excels at all four to craft something that still requires undivided attention, but is genuinely thrilling to watch and beautiful to behold. More on that last point, because this series is just so visually stunning, with lavish frames brimming in golden hues and moody blues. My heart leapt with joy to see the editing and colours interact so gorgeously, before bursting into a million pieces as the breathtaking fights totally enchanted me, the animation soaring as Shiki – the main character – dances through blood to the divine melody of Kalafina. This anime is surprisingly light on action, but when it endeavours to go there, it really makes sure to be perfect at it, while not forgetting to bring the fights to life with its own unique artistic flair. This series isn’t just thrills though, because the characters are all so well defined that watching them interact, unfold and monologue is actually an enjoyable experience, with any further character development simply being a treat. But it’s the philosophy that takes the cake, embedding a myriad of concepts onto itself to emanate a radiance of profundity, multiplying the poignancy of revelations and triumphs tenfold. So many themes and concepts are explored in this series, each episode weaving them all into a tapestry of pure genius in its melancholic ruminations on life. 

The Garden of Sinners is a tough series to get into because it’s so damn convoluted – and even when you are fully entrenched in the moody beauty of it all you will still find an abundance of flaws. But once you get past the rocky start, you will discover an anime that is pristinely laced with charming characters, stunning animation, glamorous stories, exquisite philosophy, and heavenly music. These films still had me scratching my head in confusion fairly frequently, but I’ll be damned if this anime isn’t nigh perfect in all it so valiantly attempts to do.

The samurai movie I promised you is the one and only Ran. I have a love-hate relationship with Akira Kurosawa’s samurai movies, because while I adore Seven Samurai and Yojimbo, I really did not like Throne of Blood and Rashomon. I find his style to be very hit or miss, so I’m so happy that Ran was a bullseye. 

It’s honestly unreal how great this film looks. I’ve always said how so much visual creativity is lost by limiting oneself to monochrome, and Ran just proves the superiority of colour. While I’m sure the superb cinematography would look great even in the usual black and white of samurai films, the manner in which the colours pop off the screen is immeasurably precious. From the bright greens of pristine grass billowing in the wind atop high mountains, to silhouettes of white robes floating in the golden light of dusk and dawn, to the myriad flags of reds, blacks, blues and yellows flying through the fires of war – this is genuinely one of the best looking films I’ve ever seen, with the most magnificent production design. I mean, you know a film is good when even the dust is pretty to look at. Ran isn’t merely a slideshow of gorgeous colours though, as what Kurosawa conveys so masterfully through visuals is elevated with sublime finesse by the outstanding writing. Such a feat may be easy considering how this is a surprisingly faithful adaptation of King Lear – with dialogue that could have been plucked straight out of Shakespeare’s mouth – but transposing it to the Japanese setting with brilliantly realised fresh takes on the characters is simply superb storytelling. The philosophising is enchanting and the plot is fascinating, masterfully managing to reveal the beauty of death and the horror of life. 

This is quite possibly Kurosawa at his peak, but his excellent utilisation of every filmmaking element is sewn together by Tatsuya Nakadai, whose transformative performance is absolutely breathtaking. His gradual descent from a powerful lord to an utterly broken man with the face of a malnourished demon is both heartbreaking and captivating, his eyes totally lost to the madness and chaos of the world around him. I think the reason I didn’t like Throne of Blood is because Mifune played the madness so superficially, whereas Nakadai – and the film as a whole – never loses nuance, so that the tragedy actually feels tragic while the heartfelt levity prevents it from ever becoming boring. As such, I do believe I’ve found my new favourite samurai film, because Kurosawa has shown me the overwhelming power of words, colours, performances, cinematography, costumes, sets and story working in perfect coordination to craft a most sublime piece of art. This is a very long and very slow film, but it’s worth it to experience such a glorious epic unfold.

Now, I don’t know if you know, but every single year – without fail – I rewatch The Lord of the Rings. But there’s another trilogy that chronologically comes before it, and that is, of course, The Hobbit. The plot in the book is that Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit enjoying his quiet life, is swept into an epic quest by Gandalf the Grey and thirteen dwarves who seek to reclaim their mountain home from Smaug, the dragon. It’s such a succinct premise that helped to make one of the best children’s stories ever written. Which is why it’s so perplexing that the films are so ridiculously over bloated, chucking in extra scenes, new characters, a myriad of subplots and drawn out battles so that by the end Bilbo begins to feel like a side character in his own story. 

With An Unexpected Journey, there’s just such an incoherency in tone between many scenes, with the Radagast moments being annoying in their obnoxious Disneyness and the chase through Goblin town being awfully messy, with the many musical numbers – which I once thought were endearing – now making me want to skip forward. I guess I enjoy the darker moments, as well as scenes where characters are allowed to shine through and the film becomes carried by the performances. But save for Martin Freeman, the new characters are irritating and the old feel hollow, causing the drama to just feel rather superficial. The scene in Gollum’s cave is genuinely the only great scene though, as it continues to be fun and light-hearted thanks to Andy Serkis’s beautiful performance, before transforming into a poignant moment for Bilbo as he chooses to show mercy. The special effects are also breathtaking throughout, crafting many paintings that are utterly gorgeous. Perhaps the aesthetic feels more fake than Lord of the Rings, but it would be disingenuous of me to deny that it looks just as good. 

I’d argue that The Desolation of Smaug is the best one of the trilogy, since this one is actually more enjoyable. Still over bloated – with irritating dwarves that don’t look like dwarves, an abundance of pointless expository dialogue, and shoehorned scenes that detract from the main story – but it’s at least tonally consistent now, with more fun scenes strung throughout to make it a better experience. Chief among them is undoubtedly Smaug, whose magnificence is able to make me look past the slow pace up till then. The special effects team outdid themselves to bring this beautiful dragon to life: snaking, crawling and flying through the gold flooded halls with gorgeous eloquence, before becoming infused by Cumberbatch with a performance of captivating terror. Also, what this film lacks in good writing, it more than makes up for with great action, from the spiders, to the barrels, to the orcs to the dragon itself, masking the poor screenplay under a veil of excitement.

The Battle of the Five Armies is the most mystifying of the three films, however, as the first half is surprisingly good. The prologue with Smaug – while by all rights should have been the ending of the previous film – is really well directed, though I must say I felt a tinge of sadness when he’s killed (which I did not at all feel when the same happened to the dwarves). The preamble to the climactic battle is also fairly engaging, since this is where the character moments shine through, with many opposing ideas that were – at the very least – interesting to watch unfold. But over half of this film is pure fighting, which starts off impressively with some fun and interesting battlefield tactics, before devolving into pure nonsense as heads go flying, swords pierce armour, physics is lost to the void, and characters become utterly lifeless. I suppose this film does feel markedly faster paced, but it’s still annoying how so little happens, with most of the runtime occupied with performing impossible feats that completely break any suspension of disbelief.

With all that said, I will admit I greatly enjoyed these films when they came out, as Middle Earth in the cinema is such a treat to experience. But this rewatch has really dampened my love for the trilogy, because while they’re fine films in their own right and the VFX artists deserve all the praise they can get, they just massively pale in comparison to the superior trilogy that I shall be watching soon.