Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn japanese. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn japanese. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng

Chủ Nhật, 14 tháng 6, 2015

Maiko Nishino-Ekeberg in Maiko: Dancing Child.
Dance by no chance

By Miranda Inganni

Maiko Nishino-Ekeberg knew as a young child that she wanted her life to be about ballet. Even the name her parents gave her, Maiko, meaning "dancing child," was as if it were her destiny. When Nishino-Ekeberg was around 14 years old, her parents sent her to the Royal Ballet in London to ensure she got the best training, having to sell their house and car and move in with Maiko’s grandparents so they could afford to do so. Nishino-Ekeberg felt like this was a debt she could only repay by succeeding as a dancer. When Nishino-Ekeberg finally had her first big breakthrough in her mid-20s, she finally felt like she had said “thank you” to her parents, especially her mother who instilled a fierce resolve in Nishino-Ekeberg.
Now at the height of her career as a dancer with the National Norwegian Ballet, Nishino-Ekeberg wants (and is being pressured by her mother -- still so much control!) to start a family with her husband, Nicolai (who does not say much in the documentary). Nishino-Ekeberg knows full well that if she doesn’t stay in top condition she will lose her place as prima ballerina (there are plenty of other dancers waiting in the wings to take her place). Though she is cautioned by her doctor, dancers and, most sternly, her mother, Nishino-Ekeberg is determined, passionate and even stubborn. She has to be the best; the best ballerina; the best mother. And only dancing the lead role in Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake (known as the most physically demanding role in classical ballet) will prove to her that she is still the best.
Making its world premiere at the Los Angeles Film Festival, Ase Svenheim Drivens’ first full length feature, Maiko – Dancing Child could easily be fiction, but it is in fact a documentary. Nishino-Ekeberg is physically stunning and camera-ready: all long lines and flawless features. Her story is one of sheer ambition, determination and discipline. And training. Lots and lots of training! Despite a cheesy, child voiceover (ostensibly reading Maiko’s letters to her mother from when she was a young girl), Maiko chronicles the endurance it takes to stay on top once you have hit your high point(e) in ballet. 
Unfortunately, we get only a brief glimpse at the hurt Nishino-Ekeberg still carries from missing her mother during her childhood and the psychological ramifications are not explored in the film. What Nishino-Ekeberg sees as only love, others might sense as domineering. What we do see is a woman in her mid-thirties reclaim her position of prestige while she pirouettes.


Maiko: Dancing Child screens at LAFF: June 16, 3:30, Regal Cinemas. For more information: Maiko.

 

Chủ Nhật, 13 tháng 4, 2014

Eric Lomax (Colin Firth) in The Railway Man.
Getting there from here

By John Esther

In the early 1980s, Eric Lomax (Colin Firth) is a lonely, tormented man who continues to study Britain's railway system. He has always loved trains, despite the pain this love for trains brought him during WWII when he and his fellow British soldiers surrendered to Japanese soldiers in Singapore, 1942, and were brought to the Thai/Burma border and ordered to build the "Death Railway."

During another yet seemingly ordinary ride on the train, Lomax meets Canadian nurse Pattie Wallace (Nicole Kidman) and the two have such a remarkable conversation, Eric, at last, falls in love. The two get married.

However, it soon becomes very clear to Mrs. Lomax that her husband has psychological problems stemming from the great war. With the help of Finlay (Stellan Skarsgaard), a fellow POW of Eric's, Patti is determined to help her husband.

Based on Lomax's book, directed by Jonathan Teplitzky and the screenplay written by Andy Paterson and Frank Cottrell Boyce, the film deals with some of the uglier aspects of war, namely how torture can be justified by the upper echelons of government through twisted language that winds it way down the chain of command. Indeed, the use of language plays many roles in The Railway Man.

While in The Railway Man, the film deals with a British officer (Jeremy Irvine) and a Japanese-English translator Takeshi Nagase (Tanroh Ishida) who tortures the young Eric through such techniques as waterboarding, as an American, one can only anticipate the day when filmmakers illustrate (further) the torturous events at Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib and those who are and were on the wrong side of history.

In the meantime, The Railway Man is not only a germane warning to current U.S. policy, it is also one of the better films to come out so far this year.

"So many dead." "No, so many murdered."