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blodeueddWhile I've still been spending most evenings basking in the addictive glow of Prince of Tennis (I'm not even done the series, yet! There is SO MUCH OF IT but that makes me SO HAPPY!), I did manage to turn my attentions to other things this past week. For your reading pleasure, my takes on a book, a movie, and a musical!
Indian storytelling!
Red Earth and Pouring Rain (Vikram Chandra)
While I like the idea of trade paperbacks in theory, they make for impractical subway reading, because they're heavier and take up more space in a handbag than pocket books. However, this one was too good to leave at home, so I sucked it up and carted it around town with me.
How to explain the story? In a way, it can best be summed up by a remark -- and I really wish I'd written down the quote, or made note of the page, at least -- made by one of the European colonial characters, which amounted to: "You Indians have no sense of narrative: your stories go on and on, loose their way, start following minor side characters, go back and forth in time, and have no resolution." This is a book of stories, of stories within stories, of stories wandering into other stories, converging and dovetailing and going off in new directions. There are humans and gods, animals and magic, life and death and rebirth. And Jack the Ripper.
The basic framework is that Sanjay, a man born in India at the beginning of the glory days of the East India Company, found a way to escape death, and ends up being reborn as a monkey. In modern-day Bombay, he is shot and fatally wounded by Abhay, a young man just returned to his family after studying in the United States. Still unwilling to die, Sanjay strikes a bargain with Yama: continued life in exchange for stories, to be told every day. Sanjay the monkey types out his stories, which are read by the family. Hanuman and Ganesh show up, the crowd listening outside grows daily, and when Sanjay runs out of energy, Abhay takes over with his own story. The bulk of the book is the stories that Sanjay and Abhay tell, and while Abhay's is a bit more straightforward (it mostly concerns his time overseas and the people he met there) than Sanjay's, it still contains stories within stories. Sanjay's story, on the other hand, which is of his life, closely entwined with that of his brother Sikander, starts out long before his birth, because how else do you explain how their various fathers (yes, there are several) ended up fathering them?
Writing a dissertation on the importance of narrative and words in this story would keep one occupied for a long time, but I'm not in that kind of mood right now. Suffice to say that this book is an exploration of the power of storytelling, and of the importance of words, be they spoken, written, or printed. Sanjay's whole life is devoted to telling stories. A childhood accident renders him mute, so he learns to write; he apprentices at a printer's workshop, regains his voice, becomes a poet; several times he literally eats his (and others') words and eventually, even after physically losing his tongue, his power of speech comes back, because the story must go on.
Along with this, there runs to exploration of the telling of history, of Sanjay's outrage at how the English portray Hindustan (as it was then known) in their writings, of the consequences of colonialism not only on the colonised themselves, but on the new kind of people produced by it, such as Sanjay and Sikander, who are both Indian and English, yet neither.
Final verdict: 9/10
Japanese lesbians!
Love My Life
This is a simple, sweet little movie. Based on a manga written by Ebine Yajime, whose work (I've got the French translations of Indigo Blue and Sweet Lovin' Baby) I really like. The spareness of her style was well translated to the screen, I thought, in the sets and the music, and the movie manages to focus entirely on Ichiko, the main character, without it ever feeling that her story isn't big enough or dramatic enough to keep our interest.
Ichiko and Eri, both university students, are in love. Ichiko decides that she wants to come out to her father (her mother died several years previously), and when she does, her father shocks her by coming out to her as well -- but not only is he gay, and has had a partner for the past few years, but Ichiko's mother was also gay. Ichiko's parents had been close friends who decided to get married because they wanted a child, though each had their own separate romantic relationships.
Eri, on the other hand, doesn't see the point in coming out. It would just make life more complicated, she says, and she prefers to focus on her studies. She's studying to become a lawyer, the same as her father and elder brother, and when she tells Ichiko that they can't see each other anymore until she passes her exams, because it would be too much of a distraction, Ichiko is heartbroken. First of all, because they won't get to spend time together, but also because she can't understand why Eri would put so much effort into becoming a lawyer when she's only doing it to prove to her family that she's just as good as they are.
While Ichiko and Eri's relationship provides the framework for the story, it's really about Ichiko and how she matures. The movie manages to bring up the issues related to being gay in Japan without becoming a movie about Issues, mostly through the conversations Ichiko has with her classmate Take, who is also gay (and lamenting the fact that he can't find a boyfriend). Not being able to spend time with Eri forces Ichiko to think about her life and what she wants from it, and to reconsider her feelings (a discussion with her father puts a new spin on her thoughts regarding Eri's ambitions), and their time apart allows Ichiko to grow as a person and discover things about herself. When they're finally reunited (and I don't think it's a spoiler to say so, because Ichiko and Eri are so cute together it would be a crime not to have a happy ending), Ichiko finds that Eri's also used her time wisely, and has grown as well.
And they run off into the sunset together and have adorable, sweet, giggly sex for ever and ever.
Actually... kind of, yes. *sappy smile*
Final verdict: 8/10
Japanese men singing about tennis! You want screencaps? I bet you do! :D
Prince of Tennis Musical (the first of many ohgodthisthingistakingovermylifehelpmepleasesendmoreprinceoftennis)
There's a musical? There are LOTS of musicals! This one is only the first and, as such, at least compared to the clips I've seen of the subsequent ones, it's not as sophisticated as it could have been. If you can call a musical about middle school tennis players sophisticated. XD But it's such amusing, hilarious cheesiness!
Choreography-wise, at least, I was disappointed, because there's very little of it. The only character who gets to really dance is Echizen Nanjirou, and while his two little Kabuki/modern ballet/popping numbers are very cool, and his gorgeous développés hint at a whole lot of dance training, they're the only real standouts of the show. Most of the other numbers are stylised tennis matches -- though the ichinen-tachi (Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro) get a funny number in the clubhouse -- and the actors seem kind of awkward running around with their racquets, a lot of the time. It's a shame, too, because this past week or so, I've been looking these guys up (don't look at me like that!) and can tell you in all confidence that Tsuchiya Yuuichi, who plays Oishi, can really shake his hips, so it's a shame that he didn't get to do so on that stage.
What about the music, you ask? It's nothing to write home about, and the lyrics are predictably cheesy, but the songs are mostly fun. As for the actors themselves, they can sing passably or even well for the most part (except Butchou can't sing! *cracks up*) and they look right for their parts. Kaidoh was especially well-cast, and Momoshiro's swaggering brashness is perfect. As for Inui, I can't help it: good lord, is that guy geeky-cute! Tezuka is also a dead ringer for his anime self, and Fuji is possibly evengirlier prettier than you'd expect.
The story? Oh yeah, there is one of those... This musical covers the beginning of the series, from Ryouma's arrival at Seigaku up to his inclusion in the Regulars. It sticks pretty close to what you see in the anime (and the manga, I imagine), so you get Ryouma's matches against RandomArrogantTennisPlayer, Momoshiro, Arai, Kaidoh, and Inui. The only major difference is that all female characters have been eliminated! That means no Sakuno standing around with shimmering eyes repeating "Ryouma-kun..." over and over, and no Tomoka shrieking "Ryouma-sama!" at every possible opportunity. Actually, I shouldn't say that all the female characters were eliminated, because Ryuuzaki-sensei is still there. As a disembodied voice floating in from off-stage. :D
Fanservice? There isn't much, apart from Ryouma changing his shirt on stage a couple of times (and who cares about Ryouma, anyway? He's just the main character!). And though it's not technically fanservice, I suppose, because he remains clothed throughout, I thought the highlight of the show was Kawamura getting a whole song out of "Come on, baby! BURNING!" with Inui, Fuji and Eiji as backup dancers. WITH JAZZ HANDS! *falls over laughing*
Final verdict: Gah, how am I supposed to rate this? I'll say 7/10, because I cheated and looked at bits of the following musicals and they seem much more fanservicey (Golden Pair!) and better-choreographed than this first effort. Adjust your expectations according to your interest in tennis, anime, anime about tennis, and musicals based on same.
And here, because Inui is just so cute:
Indian storytelling!
Red Earth and Pouring Rain (Vikram Chandra)
While I like the idea of trade paperbacks in theory, they make for impractical subway reading, because they're heavier and take up more space in a handbag than pocket books. However, this one was too good to leave at home, so I sucked it up and carted it around town with me.
How to explain the story? In a way, it can best be summed up by a remark -- and I really wish I'd written down the quote, or made note of the page, at least -- made by one of the European colonial characters, which amounted to: "You Indians have no sense of narrative: your stories go on and on, loose their way, start following minor side characters, go back and forth in time, and have no resolution." This is a book of stories, of stories within stories, of stories wandering into other stories, converging and dovetailing and going off in new directions. There are humans and gods, animals and magic, life and death and rebirth. And Jack the Ripper.
The basic framework is that Sanjay, a man born in India at the beginning of the glory days of the East India Company, found a way to escape death, and ends up being reborn as a monkey. In modern-day Bombay, he is shot and fatally wounded by Abhay, a young man just returned to his family after studying in the United States. Still unwilling to die, Sanjay strikes a bargain with Yama: continued life in exchange for stories, to be told every day. Sanjay the monkey types out his stories, which are read by the family. Hanuman and Ganesh show up, the crowd listening outside grows daily, and when Sanjay runs out of energy, Abhay takes over with his own story. The bulk of the book is the stories that Sanjay and Abhay tell, and while Abhay's is a bit more straightforward (it mostly concerns his time overseas and the people he met there) than Sanjay's, it still contains stories within stories. Sanjay's story, on the other hand, which is of his life, closely entwined with that of his brother Sikander, starts out long before his birth, because how else do you explain how their various fathers (yes, there are several) ended up fathering them?
Writing a dissertation on the importance of narrative and words in this story would keep one occupied for a long time, but I'm not in that kind of mood right now. Suffice to say that this book is an exploration of the power of storytelling, and of the importance of words, be they spoken, written, or printed. Sanjay's whole life is devoted to telling stories. A childhood accident renders him mute, so he learns to write; he apprentices at a printer's workshop, regains his voice, becomes a poet; several times he literally eats his (and others') words and eventually, even after physically losing his tongue, his power of speech comes back, because the story must go on.
Along with this, there runs to exploration of the telling of history, of Sanjay's outrage at how the English portray Hindustan (as it was then known) in their writings, of the consequences of colonialism not only on the colonised themselves, but on the new kind of people produced by it, such as Sanjay and Sikander, who are both Indian and English, yet neither.
Final verdict: 9/10
Japanese lesbians!
Love My Life
This is a simple, sweet little movie. Based on a manga written by Ebine Yajime, whose work (I've got the French translations of Indigo Blue and Sweet Lovin' Baby) I really like. The spareness of her style was well translated to the screen, I thought, in the sets and the music, and the movie manages to focus entirely on Ichiko, the main character, without it ever feeling that her story isn't big enough or dramatic enough to keep our interest.
Ichiko and Eri, both university students, are in love. Ichiko decides that she wants to come out to her father (her mother died several years previously), and when she does, her father shocks her by coming out to her as well -- but not only is he gay, and has had a partner for the past few years, but Ichiko's mother was also gay. Ichiko's parents had been close friends who decided to get married because they wanted a child, though each had their own separate romantic relationships.
Eri, on the other hand, doesn't see the point in coming out. It would just make life more complicated, she says, and she prefers to focus on her studies. She's studying to become a lawyer, the same as her father and elder brother, and when she tells Ichiko that they can't see each other anymore until she passes her exams, because it would be too much of a distraction, Ichiko is heartbroken. First of all, because they won't get to spend time together, but also because she can't understand why Eri would put so much effort into becoming a lawyer when she's only doing it to prove to her family that she's just as good as they are.
While Ichiko and Eri's relationship provides the framework for the story, it's really about Ichiko and how she matures. The movie manages to bring up the issues related to being gay in Japan without becoming a movie about Issues, mostly through the conversations Ichiko has with her classmate Take, who is also gay (and lamenting the fact that he can't find a boyfriend). Not being able to spend time with Eri forces Ichiko to think about her life and what she wants from it, and to reconsider her feelings (a discussion with her father puts a new spin on her thoughts regarding Eri's ambitions), and their time apart allows Ichiko to grow as a person and discover things about herself. When they're finally reunited (and I don't think it's a spoiler to say so, because Ichiko and Eri are so cute together it would be a crime not to have a happy ending), Ichiko finds that Eri's also used her time wisely, and has grown as well.
And they run off into the sunset together and have adorable, sweet, giggly sex for ever and ever.
Actually... kind of, yes. *sappy smile*
Final verdict: 8/10
Japanese men singing about tennis! You want screencaps? I bet you do! :D
Prince of Tennis Musical (the first of many ohgodthisthingistakingovermylifehelpmepleasesendmoreprinceoftennis)
There's a musical? There are LOTS of musicals! This one is only the first and, as such, at least compared to the clips I've seen of the subsequent ones, it's not as sophisticated as it could have been. If you can call a musical about middle school tennis players sophisticated. XD But it's such amusing, hilarious cheesiness!
Buchou is not amused by the amusing, hilarious cheese.
Choreography-wise, at least, I was disappointed, because there's very little of it. The only character who gets to really dance is Echizen Nanjirou, and while his two little Kabuki/modern ballet/popping numbers are very cool, and his gorgeous développés hint at a whole lot of dance training, they're the only real standouts of the show. Most of the other numbers are stylised tennis matches -- though the ichinen-tachi (Horio, Katsuo and Kachiro) get a funny number in the clubhouse -- and the actors seem kind of awkward running around with their racquets, a lot of the time. It's a shame, too, because this past week or so, I've been looking these guys up (don't look at me like that!) and can tell you in all confidence that Tsuchiya Yuuichi, who plays Oishi, can really shake his hips, so it's a shame that he didn't get to do so on that stage.
Momo sings about Kaidoh's lovely eyes.
What about the music, you ask? It's nothing to write home about, and the lyrics are predictably cheesy, but the songs are mostly fun. As for the actors themselves, they can sing passably or even well for the most part (except Butchou can't sing! *cracks up*) and they look right for their parts. Kaidoh was especially well-cast, and Momoshiro's swaggering brashness is perfect. As for Inui, I can't help it: good lord, is that guy geeky-cute! Tezuka is also a dead ringer for his anime self, and Fuji is possibly even
Fuji is pretty, oh, so pretty!
The story? Oh yeah, there is one of those... This musical covers the beginning of the series, from Ryouma's arrival at Seigaku up to his inclusion in the Regulars. It sticks pretty close to what you see in the anime (and the manga, I imagine), so you get Ryouma's matches against RandomArrogantTennisPlayer, Momoshiro, Arai, Kaidoh, and Inui. The only major difference is that all female characters have been eliminated! That means no Sakuno standing around with shimmering eyes repeating "Ryouma-kun..." over and over, and no Tomoka shrieking "Ryouma-sama!" at every possible opportunity. Actually, I shouldn't say that all the female characters were eliminated, because Ryuuzaki-sensei is still there. As a disembodied voice floating in from off-stage. :D
Kachiro is distracted by Ryouma's rippling muscles... or not.
Fanservice? There isn't much, apart from Ryouma changing his shirt on stage a couple of times (and who cares about Ryouma, anyway? He's just the main character!). And though it's not technically fanservice, I suppose, because he remains clothed throughout, I thought the highlight of the show was Kawamura getting a whole song out of "Come on, baby! BURNING!" with Inui, Fuji and Eiji as backup dancers. WITH JAZZ HANDS! *falls over laughing*
Burn, baby, burn!
Final verdict: Gah, how am I supposed to rate this? I'll say 7/10, because I cheated and looked at bits of the following musicals and they seem much more fanservicey (Golden Pair!) and better-choreographed than this first effort. Adjust your expectations according to your interest in tennis, anime, anime about tennis, and musicals based on same.
And here, because Inui is just so cute:
Inui reads (or writes?!?) fanfiction about evil, slutty Fuji. :D
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Sniff it all the way to pizza hut
Date: 2008-02-18 10:15 pm (UTC)