Fantasia 2018--L'Inferno (1911) with live score from Maurizio Guarini from Goblin!!

Virgil leads Dante past traitors immersed in a frozen lake in L'Inferno (1911)

Every year, Fantasia has several "special events" that are always a highlight of the festival.  I've seen two Grady Hendrix performances, a presentation on the Jean Rollin book Lost Girls by Spectacular Optical, anniversary remastered screenings of The Reflecting Skin, and last year's epic cinematic experience (pour moi), the 4K remastered screening of Dario Argento's Suspiria.  At Fantasia 2018, festival goers were able to experience a truly unique event--a screening of the very first Italian feature film, L'Inferno (1911) on its 107th anniversary with a live score composed on site by Maurizio Guarini, best known for some of the most amazing soundtrack work out there (including Suspiria and Deep Red).  Not only did we get to watch this remastered silent film, but experience it with this amazing live accompaniment. 

Tinting silent films was a fairly common practice, but they really remastered the film beautifully

I'm going to crib directly from the Fantasia program here: "L'Inferno was directed by Francesco Bertolini, Adolfo Padovan and Giuseppe de Liguoro, working with more than 150 cast and crew members over a period of three years. The scale and ambition of its imagery is breathtaking, with primitive special effects that drip raw inspiration and hyper-imaginative interpretations of Hell that continue to impress over a century after they were burned into light. Having made over 2 million US dollars in its original release, it is also very likely cinema's first blockbuster."  I could not have said it better.  Plot-wise, the poet, Virgil, leads Dante through a grand tour of the circles of hell, and it's really a journey to remember.  Supposedly the film is heavily influenced by Gustav Doré's illustrations, so I promptly checked these images out after the screening, and their similarities are startling.

These Gustav Doré's illustrations really blow my mind

So many fantastic images with early special effects and experimental techniques litter this film, I really found it incredibly difficult to tear my gaze away to take notes.  Some highlights:
--carnal sinners bathed in a lavender gel swirl above Dante and Virgil's heads
--the entrance to the city of Dis is barred by demons, and they have the best costumes.  Luckily Virgil and Dante escape by jumping into a pit, to the consternation of the angry demons.

Angry demons helplessly poke at Dante and Virgil below in L'Inferno

--Harpies make their nest in branches known as "the suicides" while a synth riff that echoes Suspiria plays in the background
--A "Rain of Fire" consisting of numerous tinted and superimposed explosions lights up the screen
--Flatterers and Dissolute Women are Immersed in excrement.  Yuk.
--In a red tinted scene, feet wiggle out of pits in the ground, as sinners are buried head first
--A real stand out: fortune tellers with their heads twisted around, walk backwards toward Dante and Virgil
--The poets encounter three giants, and one lifts them down from above.  This effect is quite nifty for its time.
--Embezzlers are transformed into vipers, where they ultimately become lizard puppets
--One man carries around his own severed head, which actually keeps talking!

--but my absolute favorite moment, where the soundtrack really shines, is when Lucifer munches on some poor soul, his feet dangling out of his mouth like some unruly piece of lettuce.  Check out the image at the very beginning of the post to get a master shot of Lucifer with his wings in the background.  Love it!!

Lucifer munching on a human body!

Sure, there were some moments in the screening where the audience emitted a mass chuckle as some of the special effects displayed a certain raw, dated quality.  My favorite is when Virgil and Dante escape the demons by jumping into a pit of snakes, and they just appear to be some random noodles laying around.  Still, those moments add a bit of lightness to a really compelling and imaginatively rendered Hell world, and to think that this film came out in 1911, well before the surrealists were making weirdness like Un Chien Andalou, is simply awesome!  I just barely made it into the screening, since it was utterly sold out, and I'm so glad I did.  L'Inferno with live accompaniment was truly a unique cinematic experience to remember.  Thank you, Fantasia!

Fantasia 2018--Hanagatami--Nubuhiko Obayashi (2017)

A dying Mina, superimposed over a giant moon, in Nobuhiko Obayashi's bewildering Hanagatami (2017)

 

 

 

People often ask me, when I'm taking notes in a movie theater while a film unfolds, if I'm afraid of missing something when I take a moment to look down at where my pen is hitting the page.  The answer is an emphatic "yes"--even though I'm used to writing in the dark, some films are really challenging to grasp on a first (or second, or third) screening.  With Nubuhiko Obayashi's Hanagatami (2017), the frame is so rich with visuals, the story so dense, that I'm not sure the film would become any clearer on repeat viewings.  Based on a novel by Kazuo Dan by the same name, Hanagatami ostensibly follows a group of teenagers, just before the attack on Pearl Harbor during World War II, grappling with their relationships (friendship and romantic) as their lives are forever changed by war's onset.  This description is bare bones, because most of the time I had no idea what was going on--perhaps because of my glancing familiarity with Japanese history and literature, as well as some of the oblique, but clearly significant, cultural references littered throughout the film.  As the trailer for the film makes clear, Obayashi's playful use of superimposition, optical printing, and multi-layered composition, accompanied by very stylized acting, is geared toward the adventurous cinephile.  The film exhibits a studied artificiality in both style and performance that doesn't really allow viewers to immerse themselves in this world.  I saw many gorgeous images onscreen, and if that's enough to sustain you for the film's near three hour running time, take a chance on it.  Also, understanding Japanese is a plus--there's quite a bit of dialogue and it's delivered pretty quickly.

A still from Hausu (House) by Nubuhiko Obayashi (1977)

and another

and yet another from Hausu (1977)

I signed on to Hanagatami (2017) based on the many surreal, absurd, and glorious virtues of the director's cult film Hausu/House (1977), where a bunch of schoolgirls visit one of their aunt's houses in the country, and the house proceeds to devour them in a host of unique and imaginative ways.  Watch the trailer to sample some of its many charms.  The film is so out there that viewers are swept along by a gory visual maelstrom.  Hanagatami samples some of the same collage effects on display in Hausu, but wraps them in a seemingly romantic epic regarding lost youth in a time of war.  Not quite as effective, or perhaps just not what might be expected if one has limited exposure to Obayashi's oeuvre.

(from left) Toshi, Aso, Ukai, and Kira...are all supposed to be in high school

A couple of things kept me from really engaging with Hanagatami.  First, the main male leads are all supposed to be HIGH SCHOOL BOYS.  Yep.  Obviously the casting is deliberate, right?  But what does it signify that Keishi Nagatsuka, who plays Kira, looks to be in his 40s, and has gray glittering in his facial hair.  Toshi tries to counteract the fact that he easily looks twice his age (17) by acting quite broadly, like a silent-movie hero, but ultimately coming across as goofy.  Likewise, Mina, the "teenager" tragically dying from TB, seems to be the hinge on which all hetero-eroticism in the film swings; still, I think viewers looking for implied queerness between characters can mine quite a few interactions, especially those between Toshi and Ukai (who both have their share of nude scenes).  Further, I'm not sure how well known Kazuo Dan's book is to viewers, but there were moments that I was absolutely certain that the subtitles MUST NOT be accurately translated.  What are these characters saying???

"sixteen-year-old girls" hanging out in Hanagatami

Hanagatami is a visually striking and imaginative film that failed to connect with me, perhaps because I was expecting more of the bloody mayhem of Hausu.  The film's vivid garishness was fun for the eye, but at nearly three hours, it takes a certain level of commitment from viewers that I clearly just...don't...have.  As I left the theater, Thierry, who has been working at Fantasia since I first started attending, gave me a quick hug and asked me if I was going to write on this oddball film.  Indeed I have, but I wish I could recommend the film more.  I can recommend Hausu without reservation.