dulcedemon | Cinematic Distractions

It's down to the wire and by the numbers for the last movie list of 2023. Our three-part fond farewell to Netflix DVDs comes to a close. There will be a short intermission to start the new year. During which time, snacks will be dispensed. Once the list resumes, I'll be drawing from my own collection. It could use a good dusting off. I might even pull out some VHS tapes.
It would be great if I could randomize the selection somehow. I miss being able to inject an element of surprise by top-loading movies that had wait times.
Happy Holidays!

2046 (2004):
To some extent, it picks up where and when In the Mood for Love (2000) left off, but only in terms of one character, Chow Mo-Wan AKA: Mr. Chow as per the subtitles. Tony Leung Chiu-wai is back as the suave and handsome newspaper editor haunted by lost love. He has become a bit of a playboy in the few years since.
He fills the void of what might have been with one-night stands and gambling binges. He writes pulp sci-fi, martial arts, and erotic short fiction to pay the debts his news editor salary can't cover. Among the many women he almost but not quite falls for are a mysterious lady gambler (Gong Li) with the same name as his lost love, a nightclub performer (Carina Lau), an escort (Ziyi Zhang), and his landlord's lovesick daughter (Faye Wong). He often gets called a bastard, and sometimes receives a well-deserved slap, but he can be pretty self-sacrificing and gallant.
The numeric title makes reference to a hotel room number, but 2046 is more than a place. It's also a time... and a train. Aboard that train are lost memories, secrets, and beautiful androids.
There is an odd time element in Mr. Chow's most pivotal encounters with these various women. It's always Christmas Eve. There are four such occasions in the story spanning from 1966 through 1969. It's solidly a Christmas movie. Frankly, I could watch Mr. Chow slick-back his hair to Nat King Cole's The Christmas Song all day.
Every performance here is stellar, but the chemistry between Tony Leung Chiu-wai and Ziyi Zhang is truly exceptional, electrifying, and steamy. The production is graced with exceptional cinematography and costume design that are hallmarks of Wong Kar-wai. The largely classical score is opulent and melancholy.

Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (Valerie a týden divu - 1970):
Ethereal and spooky, this Czech-made fantasy film came to us many years ago through a combination of recommendations from our friend in Alaska and Netflix's algorithm. It fits the niche genre of deeply messed up coming of age movies. It shares that distinction with yet another Czech-made film: Closely Watched Trains. Although I highly recommend the latter, it's nowhere near as pretty as the former.
Valerie and Her Week of Wonders is an artful juxtaposition of enchanting beauty and lurid grotesquerie. A costumed troupe of actors, a plethora of vampires, and other ghoulish characters give it a slight Halloween vibe. Content warning: Violent things happen to chickens and polecats in more than one scene.

Yumeji (1991):
The labors and loves of the artist and poet Yumeji Takehisa are melded with a salacious and ghostly tale. The end result is elegantly surreal and richly intriguing. Seijun Suzuki makes brilliant use of set design and cinematography to capture and incorporate the essence of the Nihonga painting style into the film. Bold splashes of color abound. Autumn leaves, especially bright crimson maple leaves, are used to powerful effect.
Among its more raucous moments, I love the comic absurdity of the dance scenes. Of its quiet moments, I always pause for Inamura (Tamasaburō Bandō) standing poised and dapper before a backdrop of maples. There is just something special about it. Maybe it's his talent as an onnagata Kabuki actor showing through. It's worth looking him up. Though I can't say with any certainty, I'm convinced the supporting character Inamura is a composite of two Nihonga artists that were contemporaries of Yumeji. Those artists are: Gyoshū Hayami and Shikō Imamura.
The story centers around a pending duel between Yumeji (Kenji Sawada) and a disgruntled patron Wakiya (Yoshio Harada), who had commissioned him to paint a portrait of his wife. Yumeji's models and his tubercular fiancée try everything they can to persuade Wakiya to cancel the duel. This film is the final entry in Suzuki's Taishō Trilogy. I sorely wish I had the rest of it. This is my second time with Yumeji in just this year alone. Maybe I'll see Kagero-za (1981) and Zigeunerweisen (1980) again someday.

Three Times (Zui hao de shi guang - 2005):
This movie is so bafflingly hard to obtain that I had to make it one of my final DVD rentals. It's funny because I really only like the first part. The second story is too infuriating, and the third one is too angsty. All three are set in Taiwan with each taking place within a different era: 1966, 1911, and 2005. All three are love stories with a triangular dynamic: A Time for Love, A Time for Freedom, and A Time for Youth.
A Time for Love is my favorite for many reasons. It has a sweet and gentle quality, thoughtful pacing, and a relaxed atmosphere. The sexual tension is there, but the characters approach each other slowly and respectfully. I like the pool hall in a back-alley garage setting. FYI: Playing games together is a great way to get to know someone. Chen (Chang Chen) is a newly minted soldier who likes to spend his free time playing pool. He is the shy, quiet, romantic type. He has a tendency to develop crushes on the pool hall hostesses. May (Shu Qi) is one such hostess. While the audience waits to discover if May feels affection for Chen, billiard balls clack and glide to iconic and sentimental songs of the era, including Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by The Platters and Rain and Tears by Aphrodite's Child.
The same two actors play the romantic leads in the other two stories as well. The third wheel in each is played by actress Shi-Shan Chen. It's only in the third tale, A Time for Youth, that her character is directly romantically involved with the two leads. It could be argued that politics is the romantic rival and killjoy in the second part, A Time for Freedom.

3-Iron (Bin-jip - 2004):
Much of the latter half of 3-Iron is a fanciful tale that couldn't succeed in reality. Before it drifts into the implausible, it tells the story of an unlikely friendship and even more unlikely romance between an abused housewife (Lee Seung-yun) and a takeout menu delivery boy (Hee Jae) whose after work hobby is breaking into houses. Tae-suk doesn't steal valuables. He does no serious property damage. He only avails himself of food, bathing and laundry facilities, and a place to sleep. He always leaves the place cleaner than it was before he entered. He sometimes tinkers with or repairs small home appliances. He takes way too many selfies. He meets bruised and battered Sun-hwa during one of his intrusions. Rather than call police, she decides to join him for a while.
It's an odd one by any standard. Although it's not a silent movie, Lee Seung-yun and Hee Jae have no dialogue. Only the supporting characters speak.

20 Centimeters (20 Centímetros - 2005):
As unorthodox musicals go, 20 Centimeters is more upbeat than Dancer in the Dark (2000) but more serious than Cannibal! The Musical (1993), and more sexual than both by far. I don't think there are any actual trans persons in this movie at least not as far as the lead characters are concerned.
Even so, I enjoyed Mónica Cervera's performance as Marieta. My main motivation for renting it was Rossy De Palma. Hers is a minor but tragically memorable role. Pablo Puyol heats things up as Marieta's love interest. I don't think I have room to speak as to whether the story felt true to life, but I thought the narcolepsy angle was an odd contrivance.

Sex and Zen (Yuk po tuen: Tau ching bo gam - 1991):
Even if you forget the title, you won't soon forget the Amy Yip horse cock movie. The equine-sourced organ in question is wielded by Mei Yeung-Sheng (Lawrence Ng), an aspiring monk and scholar. Unhappy that monks aren't permitted to have sex, he flouts the rules and runs off to marry the daughter of a powerful noble, Huk-Yeung (Amy Yip). Although his bride is beautiful, she is also a virgin and a total prude. The disappointed groom hatches a plan to become a lothario. Convinced that he needs to physically enhance himself for the task, he hires an unscrupulous surgeon to replace his original bits.
Hilarity is supposed to ensue, but the themes are too dark, gross, violent, or all three. The plot has a steep misogyny curve. Most of the laughs are either lost in translation or simply not there. The rest is slapstick comedy.
Two additional movies were made, but they aren't true sequels. Their stories have nothing to do with each other. I was burdened with the knowledge of this movie's existence during a free weekend of Cinemax back in the late 1990s. I'm sorry, and you're welcome.