Having been pleasantly surprised by last year’s ShortBox Comics Fair, I returned and purchased 10 more new comics from some of the industry’s rising stars. Hence, ten new, short reviews!
Continue reading “ShortBox Comics Fair 2023: 10 Comics, 10 Reviews”
Although more than a hundred years have passed since its inception, the world has never truly forgotten how much the First World War changed virtually every aspect of modern society – and the arts was no exception. The war gave birth to a whole new generation of ‘war poets’, with a few among them, such as Wilfred Owens and Robert Graves, having since become the most recognizable. However, there are very few quite as illustrious as Siegfried Sassoon, the focal character of the latest film from Terence Davies: Benediction.
Continue reading “Review: Benediction”
When I first watched A Very English Scandal, I was only vaguely aware that the BBC was planning on producing a sequel, the aptly titled A Very British Scandal (I’ll be referring to them as ES and BS respectively from now on), but I knew nothing else otherwise. So, when I found out that the BS would be released in the days following Christmas in December 2021, I eagerly sought it out as quickly as I could, and now that I’ve watched both of them, I’d like to talk about them. To be clear, this isn’t a review. I’m not going to give these two numbered scores, but if you really want to know: 8/10 for the former and 7/10 for the latter. There’s certain aspects that I believe were done better in one than in the other, they each have their own flaws, yadda yadda. There’s reviews of them individually that go way more in-depth and are more eloquently written than anything I could ever type out, so I encourage you to seek those out if you’re curious. By all means, give both of them a try.
If you’re taking the time to read this whole thing for whatever reason, I’m going to assume you’ve already watched the two pieces of media in question. Nonetheless, allow me to provide a brief overview. ES was a 3-episode show that began airing on Amazon Prime Video in 2018, directed by Stephen Frears and written by Russel T. Davies, based on the book of the same name by John Preston. BS was also a 3-episode show that premiered on BBC One and Amazon Prime Video, this time in December 2021. It was directed by Anne Sewitsky and written by Sarah Phelps, based on… probably the need to capitalise off a popular existing property. Alright, sorry, that was a bit mean, but you can’t deny that it’s true. Apologies for already going on a slight tangent before I’ve even gotten to the juicy bits, but it’s still hilarious to me that the BBC produced a show as a sort of sister-sequel to another show that, by that point, had already existed for four years, and that they used the same naming convention for despite it not being related to the book the original was an adaptation of at all. But, hey, enough of that. Let’s be fair.
First things first: I am in no way going to even attempt to compare the general premises of these two shows; not only are they complete opposites in terms of basic plot, but also in terms of what themes or ideas are being conveyed. ES spotlights the drama surrounding former Liberal Party leader Jeremy Thorpe (Hugh Grant) and his alleged relationship with his ex-lover Norman Scott (Ben Whishaw) – an affair that caused a 15 year lead-up to the alleged attempted murder of Scott – as well as detailing homophobia in 60s-70s Britain. BS, on the other hand, focuses on the heavily publicised ‘Argyll v Argyll’ divorce case of Margaret Campbell (Claire Foy) and her husband Ian Campbell (Paul Bettany) – one rife with accusations of adultery, bribery, and forgery – and examines the misogynistic attitudes prevalent in the country at that time. Plainly, there is no “better” or “worse” premise here, and your preferences will likely determine which of the two you’ll be more interested in. That being said, I personally found the basic plot of BS to be far less immediately arresting than that of ES (maybe because I’ve watched one too many Divorce Court compilations on YouTube), but that’s where they shine in that regard: Whether you particularly care about any of the topics they cover or have any knowledge of British history and politics at all, the still find a way to get you invested.
Now, despite everything I just said about how different they are, they still share a very similar plot structure with only minor alterations across their three-episode runtimes. Usually, the first episode is entirely dedicated to setting up the initial conflict, the second ends with a dramatic revelation or reveal, and the third focuses on the resulting scandal proper, along with the ensuing court battles that inevitably follow. Normally, it would feel like a slap to the face to only converge on the actual scandal (you know, the thing in the title) during the final episode, but they make it work. Such tales of infamy did not occur in a day, and if the showrunners were to ignore the years and years of sparks that eventually ignited the fire in favour of simply indulging in second-hand public embarrassment, neither show would have been as acclaimed as it is. Given that we live in a world where most would rather revel in the drama itself than look any further into it, I can respect how ES and BS made the executive decision to set up the who, where, and why. It’s pretty impressive how much ground they were able to cover, taking into account that all their three episodes combined would clock in at only three hours or so.
Therein lies another aspect that I find quite interesting. When it comes to most historical dramas of this nature that I’ve watched, they fit into one of two boxes: Either they present the information in an objective fashion and remain neutral, or they are made with the explicit purpose of getting the audience to side with someone. ES has an intriguing way of going about this: While the non-fiction novel that it’s based on is very thorough and well-researched (from what bits of it I’ve read, anyway), calling it purely neutral wouldn’t be entirely correct. Although the central question of whether or not Thorpe did hire a hitman to kill an alleged ex-lover was historically struck down in the court of law, Preston’s account of the story is written as if everything that Norman states happened actually did happen, with it going in-depth on their secret relationship and Thorpe’s ‘plot’ to have Norman killed for exposing their “sordid” past and thus damaging his position as the Liberal Party’s very special boy forever. Needless to say, it would be difficult to finish the novel without believing Thorpe to be guilty on some level.
The show utilises the same format, but is unique in the way that it depicts the two sides of this story: Despite the narrative following Scott’s version of the tale, it does not explicitly endorse him or make him out to be the ‘perfect victim’. Simply put, these men are deeply flawed human beings: Thorpe is self-absorbed, arrogant, and manipulative, while Scott is selfish and whiny, with a penchant for exaggerating and sometimes outright lying for his own personal gain. They are very much morally ambiguous people, and the same can be said of Margaret and Ian, but I think BS doesn’t do the whole ambiguity thing as well as ES does. While Margaret is portrayed to have her own flaws, and I can definitely see why viewers could take either side with her – though I’ve definitely seen more people who lean on the side of sympathy, given how Ian treats her throughout the show – I’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who isn’t an absolute hardline misogynist that thinks Ian is the one true victim in this situation. Again, there’s nothing wrong with having a clearer emphasis on which side of a conflict is more sympathetic, but it’s a little disappointing BS couldn’t portray this clash of ideologies as well as its predecessor.
In general, however, the reason I personally find ES to be the more engaging watch has to do with the fact that I find its two ‘protagonists’ (if you can call them that) to ultimately be more interesting. Aside from their aforementioned contrasts in personality, you really could not make them any more different if you tried. Thorpe was born into a life of privilege and attended some of the top schools in the country, while Scott (purposefully?) estranged himself from his family and finished his school life at the age of 15. Thorpe became the leader of the Liberal Party before he even reached his mid-30s, while Scott was literally some guy who happened to be in the exact place at the exact time to meet him. You can understand why they’d be attracted to one another, but also why their relationship fell apart on the personal and societal level. I could go on, but you get the point: They have vastly opposing perspectives that both influence and inform the various actions they take throughout the course of the show, and it is these differences that make them fun to watch even when they aren’t together. Margaret and Ian, however, are more or less on the same calibre: They’re people of high nobility status from well-off families, being Duchess and Duke respectively, with plenty of money-flaunting and party-going included. Obviously,, it is a little more nuanced than that, with the clear gender inequality being a source of disparity for two of them, but I felt that there weren’t as many distinctions amongst its two leads that could’ve made it as engaging as what came before. In all honesty, I normally find it difficult anyway to feel for people so exorbitantly wealthy that they spend most of their time sipping champagne and frolicking around ancient castles à la Sofia Coppola’s film Marie Antoinette.
To back off my point, I believe that the main reason for this is because there simply isn’t enough time used to explore their individual perspectives. Yes, Thorpe is clearly the ‘main character’ of ES (hence, Grant being listed as ‘Lead Actor’ and Whishaw being listed as ‘Supporting Actor’ during awards shows), but there is still a lot of time devoted to Scott and his life outside of the moments he spent with his alleged lover. For every scene of Thorpe doing something, there’s usually a scene of Scott also doing something that follows – some great examples can be seen in the first and second episodes, where vignettes of Thorpe climbing the political ranks and generally being successful in his career are juxtaposed against Scott failing to keep down any job at all and getting either laughed at or ignored whenever he tries to expose his brief but torrid love affair with Thorpe. As I said earlier, because BS is directed in such a way that it focuses mainly on Margaret, there are rarely if ever any scenes showing what’s going on from Ian’s perspective, and when there are, they are brief. Maybe Paul Bettany was trapped in the Marvel Studios basement. Jokes aside, I’ve heard others say that Ian’s side of the story shouldn’t be granted any amount of attention due to how much douchebaggery he got up to, but this makes little sense given how ES never really shied away from depicting its leads doing less-than-savoury actions. We’re shown that Ian is a money-hungry gambling addict hooked on prescription pills, but rarely ever are we delivered scenes from his point of view that give any indication as to what he thinks of his predicaments.
Nonetheless, there are certain aspects that I feel BS handled better than its predecessor. For starters, it has an actual opening with cool visuals that I can at least sit through, rather than the white-text-on-black-background in ES that I constantly found myself having to awkwardly skip every time. Moreover, I find it to be superior visually; while not exceptional by any means, it has plenty of well-constructed shots and its cinematography is more aesthetically pleasing – that may have to do with the world of opulence that its characters live in, but still. That’s not to say the cinematography of ES is terrible in any way, it’s just bland and doesn’t really deviate from the most basic of shot compositions. The de facto main setting of BS, Inveraray Castle, is quite beautiful to look at, and I love how its atmosphere changes from a place of new beginnings to a place akin to a cage by the end of the story. I also liked the dynamic between Margaret and her stepmother, with the two constantly at odds with each other in that mother-daughter way that anyone who’s ever had a tense connection with their own maternal figure can relate to it. The issue of family is an aspect that I felt was woefully underutilised in ES, since Thorpe clearly seems to have had a close relationship with his mum in real life, which, to its credit, is shown, but it’s never further explored in the show proper. Lastly, although I complained earlier that its two leads lack the sort of engaging outward personalities as their predecessors, it is also true that, when they drop the British stiff upper lip and actually display their anger or frustration, it hits even harder.
However, I’ve got to say that perhaps the biggest and most noticeable contrast between these two shows, that isn’t the explicit switch of characters, plot, and time period, is definitely their tones. If you’ve never seen either of them and you’ve read this far already, I wouldn’t fault you for assuming that they’re both serious dramas. However, ES is unique in that way in that it is a dramedy, or, if you prefer, a tragicomedy. I was actually unaware of this when I first started watching, and I ended up being pleasantly surprised by how well these seemingly opposing genres worked in the context of such a dramatic narrative. While it does contain elements of British sarcasm and occasional dark humour, its main comedic component is farce: ES fully embraces the absurdity of the whole situation it portrays, wherein every politician is an idiot, every judge is irrational, and every would-be assassin is almost hilariously incompetent. Even its main characters have moments in which they are presented as foolish – take the scene where Thorpe over-enthusiastically questions by what percentage the Liberal Party’s popularity will increase if he gets married, or the scene in which Scott hurriedly changes his shirt before following a total stranger (read: would-be assassin) into a car simply because he finds the stranger to be good-looking. It is scenes like these that add to the show’s uniqueness, and that I felt were sorely missing in the sequel. Don’t get me wrong, there are certain moments of humour in BS, but aside from maybe a few witty lines per episode, the show is otherwise played completely straight as a conventional drama. I already mentioned Marie Antoinette, which, hey, is able humorously bank off of the lifestyle of the ultra-rich, so BS should’ve been able to do the same as well. I’m aware that the change in tone was most certainly due to a complete reworking of cast and crew (and thus, a complete reworking of priorities), but it is a little disappointing that they removed perhaps the most distinct feature that made the original stand out. Again, this doesn’t necessarily mean that BS is doing anything wrong, it’s just that, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t think it’ll be talked about or revisited as much as its predecessor.
I don’t want to end this already-too-long think piece with negativity, so now’s the time for me to gush about two aspects that I believe these two shows did equally well. First: Tension. Regardless of my personal beliefs on which narrative was more engaging, the fact remains that the tension hinges on one thing: A big secret that will eventually blow up in the faces of everyone involved because it is unable to be hidden any longer. This is why, as I stated earlier, I am glad the writers tackle the whole story rather than just the bits where the general public gets involved. Seeing the characters slowly begin to unravel as their constructed lies fall apart is nothing short of entertaining and suspenseful, which brings me to my final point: The acting. As you probably already know, the casting and performances in both shows are top-notch, especially when it comes to their leading roles. Ben Whishaw certainly has the most well-known performance of them all, given that he famously won pretty much every television award under the sun (including a Golden Globe, an Emmy, and a BAFTA), and I will say that his portrayal of Norman Scott definitely captures Scott’s complex nature, if nothing else. Although he sadly did not receive any awards, Hugh Grant as Jeremy Thorpe will likely be remembered as one of the highlights of his whole career, as he seamlessly illustrates both Thorpe’s witty and jovial political persona and his more troubled inner world in one of his most subtle displays of acting prowess to date. If audiences weren’t already falling back in love with him in Paddington 2, then they were absolutely ready to with ES. Claire Foy, already familiar with playing a member of the British elite from her highly-praised role as the young Queen Elizabeth II in The Crown, no doubt brought her expertise to BS, and she nails Margaret’s character and mannerisms. Even though he doesn’t feature as much, Paul Bettany as the disgraced Duke is quite the chilling – and occasionally vicious – performance.
That’s all I have to say for now, and if there’s something I haven’t mentioned, that’s probably because it’s already been said elsewhere. As always, feel free to express your own thoughts, and I’ll be more than happy to take a look at them.
At this point, it’s safe to say that Wes Anderson has become a very… interesting figure in the film community. While his films have all grown into critical and commercial successes the more his career has moved along, with The Grand Budapest Hotel in 2014 launching him into near-stardom, general opinion of him remains mixed – and for good reason. Anderson is one of the most unique film-makers working today, with an incredibly distinct style of film usually characterized by offbeat, quirky humour, somewhat dysfunctional characters, and particularly stunning visuals – all of which are either a blessing or a detriment depending on who you’re talking to. Nonetheless, it is nothing short of impressive that the man has been able to keep making such niche products and yet amassing a larger following with each new film he puts out. But is it possible for things to become too niche? Now that his new film is out, I’ll take the opportunity to answer the question: Has Wes Anderson finally lost it?
Continue reading “Movie Review: The French Dispatch (2021)”
It’s safe to say that Little Women is not only one of the most iconic novels of all time, but it’s also one of the most popular go-to’s when it comes to adapting a novel for the silver screen. With film adaptations of Louisa May Alcott’s classic going back as far as 1917 (though, sadly, this adaptation is now considered lost), it is only fact that each generation has their own version of the famous book. It is also a piece that becomes more relevant with the passage of time, and it was clear that yet another film should be added to the collection. So enters 2019 Little Women, directed by Greta Gerwig, a filmmaker with more than her fair share of praise as of recently. But does it live up to that praise?
Although I think most people probably already know the general plot of Little Women, I’ll try and recap it quickly. The story centers around the four sisters of the March household: the oldest, graceful Meg, spunky tomboy Jo, quiet Beth, and the youngest, the artistic but bratty Amy. Unbeknown to these four girls, their lives are about to change – be it because of romance, secret ambitions, or heartbreak. Chronicling their lives from adolescence to adulthood, the film follows the inseparable four as they live, laugh, cry, and struggle together through the challenges and hardships of life.
Right off the bat, one thing that immediately sets this film apart from the rest is its use of structure and pacing. Instead of simply following the story by-the-book, that is to say starting from when the four are all teenagers and ending when they’re all adults in a linear fashion, Gerwig employs interesting techniques that involve the plot cutting back and forth between different time periods in their lives, all the while making it rather easy to follow (at least, I thought so) and not boring. It’s also clear that Gerwig has definitely learned a lot about cinematography and shot composition since her previous film, Lady Bird. This film is simply gorgeous to look at. Another aspect of this production that blew me away is the amount of acting talent involved (as I wrote this, I found out that Laura Dern, who plays the girls’ mother Marmie, won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress, which is very much well-deserved!) from everyone involved. I was especially surprised by Timothée Chalamet as Laurie, who I felt was really playing a character, not just playing himself. Of course, it would all be empty without Alexandre Desplat’s charming score, which makes the film’s quiet scenes speak the loudest.
Although this is normally the part where I list my dislikes, I find it very hard to think of any particular gripe I had regarding this film. Yes, not everything in the book is present in the film, but all that mattered to me was that the important ones were. Yes, not every sister gets an equal amount of screentime, but all the actresses did the best they could regardless, and Saoirse Ronan as Jo is such a good performance that it doesn’t really matter if the focus is mostly on her.
Overall, compared the previous film disaster I reviewed, The Rise of Skywalker, Greta Grewig’s Little Women is a breath of fresh air. When you combine a rapidly-improving director with a talented cast, beautiful cinematography, and a tight script, you get a once-in-a-lifetime cinema experience. Whether you’re a fan of the book or not, this is certainly one film you wouldn’t want to miss.
Final score: 9/10
It’s that time of the year again, folks. As I did last year, I will be ranking my 5 favourite films of 2019 (in no particular order), just like every other person that calls themselves a ‘film critic’ is doing. This list was a little difficult to make, mainly because I think there are a few films that I would likely put here (such as The Aeronauts or Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women) – except for the fact that none of the cinemas around me are showing them and they’ll probably be released too late into the year to make this list, but nonetheless, this will have to do. (Please note that these are my own opinions!)
5. Burning (dir. Lee Chang-dong)
I’ll be real with you guys for a minute: I only watched this film because it was an adaptation of a Murakami novel. But it’s definitely a lot more than that: it’s a character study, a murder mystery, and a psychological thriller in one. Combined with great performances from all the actors and an equally as great soundtrack by Mowg, this film both meets and subverts expectations. I don’t know if Murakami watches the adaptations of his films, but I think he’d be proud.
4. If Beale Street Could Talk (dir. Barry Jenkins)
It’s rare that I watch a romance film and even rarer that I recommend one, but this is most definitely an exception. Based on a novel of the same name and directed by the acclaimed Barry Jenkins, this story follows New York couple Tish and Fonny, whose lives are flipped upside-down when the former is arrested for a crime his family is certain he didn’t commit. Amidst tested relationship and a chase to prove his innocence is a fantastic love story, punctuated by great drama, heartfelt moments, and superb acting by every cast member (especially Regina King, who won Best Supporting Actress at the Oscars). A must-watch whether you like romance or not.
3. Fate/Stay Night: Heaven’s Feel II. lost butterfly (dir. Tomonori Sudou)
Despite the picture you’re seeing right now, lost butterfly is not some typical romance story. It’s not even a romance story.. not really. The second installment in Type-moon and Ufotable’s adaptation of Fate/stay Night’s third route is definitely a spectacle. While the first movie did a great job at establishing the characters and tone of the visual novel’s darkest and bleakest story, lost butterfly builds on that greatness and cranks it up to eleven. Of course, ufotable‘s animation gets better with each passing movie, and the talented voice cast give it their all. Although the Fate franchise is difficult to get into, this movie certainly shows what has the power to be. Perhaps the third and final movie will be on next year’s list?
2. Children of the Sea (dir. Eiko Tanaka)
It’s not an end-of-year list unless it includes two animated movies, is it? Set on one fateful summer vacation, Ruka becomes unexpectedly intertwined in the lives of two boys, Umi and Sora, whose connections to the water contains astonishing secrets. While the three get closer, a strange occurrence is discovered: ocean life is disappearing. With her two new friends in tow, Ruka sets out to fix this problem. Based on a popular manga, this movie is no slacker in adaptation. Consisting of beautiful animation, likeable characters, and a wonderful atmosphere, this is one coming-of-age story I’ll never forget.
1. Avengers: Endgame (dir. Anthony & Joe Russo)
Has it really been more than a year since Infinity War came out? It’s felt like so long since I put it on last year’s list. As it turns out, the hype for this film totally paid off, both literally and figuratively. Despite its moments of comic book silliness and drama, Endgame improves upon its predecessor in almost all aspects, including epicness. Not only is this an entertaining experience for Marvel fans, but for the general public as well – you can’t really say that for a lot of superhero movies. That’s an achievement in and of itself. It’s safe to say that people will still be talking about this spectacle for years to come, mark my words!
So, it finally happened. Six years, two (canon) movies, two (spin-off) movies, and millions of dollars have led to this very moment. Thousands of hours have been spent planning the ending to this grand saga, one that, six years ago, hadn’t been seen for over a decade in the Star Wars universe. It’s definitely been a wild ride, with epic highs and lows (see: The Last Jedi) and leaps and bounds. All that being said, now that it’s finally over, how was it really?
First off, I’d like to say: wow, this movie is not kind to people who have epilepsy. My goodness. Watch at your own risk; my eyes still hurt. By now, I assume you all have a general idea of how the plot will go: Emperor Palpatine (yes, that Palpatine) is back, so buckle up. Rey is growing stronger, but she still is afraid of who she really is. Kylo Ren’s loyalty to the dark side is being tested by the minute, and the Resistance is ready to take a final stand. Amongst tested loyalties and uncertainty, which side will emerge victorious?
Let’s start by listing what I liked about this movie. It’s visually stunning, whether you watch it in 3D or not. The action scenes are intense (if not a bit too fast-paced) and some of the cinematography is downright stunning, which sounds weird when talking about a movie where people fight with giant glowsticks, but it is true. Our main three have some great interactions with one another, which is certainly more than I can say for The Last Jedi, where the main trio was separated for most of the film. Aside from our main trio, the other cast members do a good job as well, with Adam Driver definitely being my favourite new actor from this trilogy. Whether you like Kylo’s ending or not, you have to admit that he’s giving it his all. For old-timey and hardcore fans, there’s plenty of fanservice and cameos, which you will likely enjoy if you’re into that stuff. Overall, there is a lot going on in this movie, but that’s where my problems with it begin.
Due to (I think) the mainly negative response fans had to The Last Jedi, this film feels like JJ Abrams and co. were rushing to undo it by doing pretty much the opposite of what TLJ at least tried to do differently. In short, there’s a bit too much of what hardcore fans like – returning characters, old settings, and epic space battles. Moreover, because the previous story was a bit slow in its plot, this film is trying to cram everything of what I just mentioned above and more into a two-hour and a half runtime. New settings, characters, and plot devices are introduced every moment, and the editing department is trying to finish this story so quickly that you rarely ever get time to breathe before you’re shown the next plot point or chase scene. Aside from a few quiet moments of reflection here and there, the whole film is more or less like this, which left me very confused as to what I was actually supposed to focus on. Personally, although TLJ left me feeling quite conflicted as to how this trilogy would end, it was hard for me to dislike something that honest and ambitious. With this movie, although it doesn’t have the same low points as TLJ, it never hits the same high points as TFA, leaving it feeling bland and watery.
In conclusion: Rise of Skywalker isn’t as terrible as some people make it out to be. On the whole, it’s a serviceable conclusion to this trilogy, and regarding fanboys, there’s a lot for them to enjoy. However, despite the team’s best efforts, its oversaturation of fanservice, action, and story beats leave it feeling lackluster, and I doubt that, ten years from now, people will look back on this finale as fondly as they’ll look back on, say, Avengers: Endgame.
Final score: 6.5/10
Kafka on The Shore (lit. Umibe no Kafuka) is the tenth novel by author Haruki Murakami, first published in Japan in 2002 and translated into English three years later by Philip Gabriel, frequent Murakami translator. Its 2005 English version was featured on The New York Times list of ’10 Best Books of 2005′ and it even received the acclaimed World Fantasy Award in 2006. Consisting of 505 pages, it treads the middle ground between a long Murakami novel and a short one, though it leans towards the former.
Organized in a format unusual to the majority of his other novels, focus is placed on whether each chapter is an odd or even one, as two distinct but connected storylines take place depending on this chapter layout. The odd-numbered chapters chronicle the journey of 15-year old Kafka, who runs away from home on a quest to find his missing mother and sister, while picking up several allies along the way. The even-numbered chapters showcase the perspective of Nakata, an illiterate elderly man with the ability to talk to cats, who finds himself far away from the comforts of his home. As the story continues, the plot deepens: Kafka is questioned for murder, Nakata tracks down a cat killer, and plot points thought to be random and inconsequential turn out to hold the biggest clues of all.
I’ll admit, I have a bit of bias towards this particular book, namely because it was the first piece of fictional Murakami I read (not the first – that would be Underground, but that’s for another Monday) and it was the reason I found myself so drawn into his work, not to mention it introduced me to the ‘magical realism’ genre. I still enjoy it after all these years, surprisingly. The characters are interesting, the moments of ‘magic’ feel magical, and the story is one of the better-paced ones. Overall, I highly recommend it, for Murakami fans, non-fans, and fans of a good surreal fantasy story alike.
A Wild Sheep Chase (lit. An Adventure Surrounding Sheep) is the third novel by author Haruki Murakami, first published in Japan in 1982, and translated into English seven years later in 1989 by frequent Murakami translator Alfred Birnbaum. It is considered an independent sequel (that is to say, a spiritual sequel) to Pinball, 1973 and is the third (and final) book in the ‘Trilogy of the Rat’; it is preceeded by Pinball and Hear the Wind Sing. Interestingly, this trilogy was released in English out-of-order, as Pinball (the second book) was the first to be translated, followed by Hear the Wind Sing (the first) and this novel. Also, while the previous two were re-translated in 2015, this novel has yet to receive one.
Taking place in a post-WWII Japan, the detective noir-style story (which also includes a chain-smoking unnamed narrator) follows our recently divorced protagonist, who, after posting a photo in a magazine ad sent to him by his old friend ‘The Rat’ (who is a recurring element in the trilogy, obviously), is contacted by a mysterious man representing ‘The Boss’, which control Japan’s elite. Having been told that a sheep pictured in the ad is somehow the secret source behind the power of ‘The Boss’, and that his life will be over if the sheep is not found within two months, our protagonist and his unusually perceptive girlfriend must travel to the north of Japan to find the strange sheep, all while encountering new and old friends, victims – and chasing an immovable force.
Despite being rather short and being part of a trilogy (meaning you’d have to read the other two novels if you want to understand anything thats going on here), A Wild Sheep Chase is rather enjoyable. It blends together both Japanese and English literature tropes in front of a Japanese contextual background, so even if you don’t know or aren’t interested in Japanese history regarding the time period of the book, it still ‘feels’ like a typical American detective story. As a Murakami fan, reading this was a unique experience, as the early Murakami novels have a very different style compared to those of today – a lot more youthful, slangy, and allegorical. It’s like a time machine. That being said, if you don’t mind reading the previous two, A Wild Sheep Chase is a fun time.
South of the Border, West of the Sun is the seventh novel by author Haruki Murakami, first published in Japan in 1992 and many years later in English by frequent Murakami translator Philip Gabriel in 1999. It was released four years after Dance Dance Dance, a novel I’ve also covered in this series. Despite being classified as a novel, this book is in a rather strange position compared to Murakami’s other works as it cannot be neatly placed into one category. At 192 pages, it is clearly shorter than your average novel, but at the same it is not short enough to be considered a short story. Therefore, it would be better to call this a ‘short novel’.
Starting with the common theme of a man ‘losing’ a woman, this story follows 36-year-old Hajime, the owner to two successful bars and father of two children, as he reunites with former childhood friend Shimamoto, who mysteriously refuses to relay any information on where she’s been all these years and constantly haunts Hajime with ‘what ifs’. This sets in a motion a chain of events in which he must choose between his loving wife and family and retreating into the wonder of his past.
I’ll admit that the premise alone got me interested. It’s rare that a Murakami novel features a married protagonist, and an emphasis on childhood friendship. Thankfully, this short novel is written well and has enough depth to keep you invested. Moreover, it is one of the few Murakami stories where the protagonist is morally ambiguous – while most of his protagonists are on the side of ‘good’ (even if reluctantly) and generally likable, Hajime makes questionable decisions and even considers cheating on his current wife with Shimamoto, a decision that would certainly turn readers against him. Without spoiling too much, this book is definitely one of Murakami’s better short-form works, and I highly recommend it if you prefer a book you could finish in a day.
The Art Archive 