I HAVE seen Foofur. I used to watch it a lot when I was a little kid. These are the things I remember: Foofur talked real funny. Funnier than Huckleberry Hound. Also, I'm pretty sure I remember watching this on Cartoon Express. That should say a lot about the cartoon: it wasn't good, because Hanna Barbera cartoons were never good, but you could always watch an overabundance of them every weekend on the same channel, and they were entertaining. Looking back on Foofur, I know it was awful, but that doesn't matter. Back then I was a kid, so back then it was good; the only thing really that makes it so awful is me now being an adult who can look back on it and make a judgment. So, for kids, a great, funny cartoon.
Reviews
7 Reviews
Foofur
(1986–1988)
Apparently others can now review stuff without ever having seen it...
27 August 2005
The Terrorizers
(1986)
Don't bother.
20 May 2005
I tried. I really, really tried to think of something that would merit rating this higher than a two. It's not that I don't "get it" -- I'm a big fan of Asian cinema. The truth is, the movie is infantile in construction, long-winded, and painfully disjointed.
I suppose that if you are of Alfred Hitchcock's school of thought "Don't tell them, show them," then you could try to appreciate this movie, but you would still be hard pressed.
First of all, The Terrorizers tries stream-of-consciousness in the style of Jean-Luc Godard and fails in this. Edward Yang seems to understand the basics of the technique, but he's very unskilled at it. (Perhaps he gets better with age; I don't know as I haven't yet attempted other Yang films.) The point is, he uses a dearth of "show, don't tell" that really only serves to interrupt the procession of the story. Sure, he gets in some visually arresting images, but they don't draw the story together, and they don't help to make it any better.
Additionally, the major concept behind stream-of-consciousness and "show, don't tell" is that with the right images, the right drama, repetition, and tight correlation, the viewer will be able to make his or her own inferences; not to say that these will be the correct inferences, but those can be amended as the story progresses, and every director should strive for some of this type of audience interaction. In this, Edward Yang sorely disappoints. The viewer is constantly on the periphery. There is no reason to be drawn in, no reason to consider the characters or their motives, no reason to get emotionally involved, and really, no reason to stay alert.
Finally, Yang gets lost in the story that he wants to tell, not the story that the movie itself is telling. His art moves in one direction, but like a large dog he can't control, he's constantly yanking the lead, trying to get it back onto the course he wants, not the one that it is naturally following. The most egregious example of this is the ending. The ending really should have occurred at the moment of the husband's revelation. The ending of the book that the movie is focusing on, (and by extension, a possible ending for the movie) has already been told to us. If Yang had chosen to end at that point, he would have had a much more powerful piece, leaving the watcher in suspense -- does the story play out as the book says, or does Yang's "real world" play out differently? Asking the viewer to think about this is the sort of viewer interaction that Yang painfully needs. Instead, he continues to tell the story he wants to tell, straining the natural conclusion for the sake of what? For the sheer sake of lingering on a main character -- we didn't' need to know more about her superficially, and Yang wouldn't feel the need to tell us if he hadn't made her into a veneer instead of bothering to make her a more engaging and deep character to begin with.
Why else does Yang prolong and torture his movie? To get in some more of those "visually arresting images." The movie truly suffers for it. It wants to end, it has a conclusion that feels natural and leaves the viewer unsettled, but instead, Yang pushes on. Instead, Yang constructs a complex ending that leads the viewer on, causing him or her to constantly ask "so what?" The first ending, the one that Yang ignored, that was good. The second ending, well, my thought was"so what, who cares?", because it's not as if it is introducing something that hasn't been put forth in the storyline already... but the last ending? That really was a waste of time. Not only did the "real" ending leave me disengaged, but I also felt it was an affront to what the story could have been. Yang sacrificed a potentially good story for the bubblegum-melancholy-noir-tinged conclusion that he had insisted upon all along.
My last problem with the movie has nothing to do with the movie itself, but rather its post-production. The subbing (if you see it subbed) is horrible. Long sentences stay up for a second or two, while short ones stay up far too long. Also, as Yang quickly changes images, the subtitles are removed from the screen. This is one of those rare instances that subtitles should be able to stay on the screen even as the image has changed, because there's not much dialog going on anyway.
I suppose that if you are of Alfred Hitchcock's school of thought "Don't tell them, show them," then you could try to appreciate this movie, but you would still be hard pressed.
First of all, The Terrorizers tries stream-of-consciousness in the style of Jean-Luc Godard and fails in this. Edward Yang seems to understand the basics of the technique, but he's very unskilled at it. (Perhaps he gets better with age; I don't know as I haven't yet attempted other Yang films.) The point is, he uses a dearth of "show, don't tell" that really only serves to interrupt the procession of the story. Sure, he gets in some visually arresting images, but they don't draw the story together, and they don't help to make it any better.
Additionally, the major concept behind stream-of-consciousness and "show, don't tell" is that with the right images, the right drama, repetition, and tight correlation, the viewer will be able to make his or her own inferences; not to say that these will be the correct inferences, but those can be amended as the story progresses, and every director should strive for some of this type of audience interaction. In this, Edward Yang sorely disappoints. The viewer is constantly on the periphery. There is no reason to be drawn in, no reason to consider the characters or their motives, no reason to get emotionally involved, and really, no reason to stay alert.
Finally, Yang gets lost in the story that he wants to tell, not the story that the movie itself is telling. His art moves in one direction, but like a large dog he can't control, he's constantly yanking the lead, trying to get it back onto the course he wants, not the one that it is naturally following. The most egregious example of this is the ending. The ending really should have occurred at the moment of the husband's revelation. The ending of the book that the movie is focusing on, (and by extension, a possible ending for the movie) has already been told to us. If Yang had chosen to end at that point, he would have had a much more powerful piece, leaving the watcher in suspense -- does the story play out as the book says, or does Yang's "real world" play out differently? Asking the viewer to think about this is the sort of viewer interaction that Yang painfully needs. Instead, he continues to tell the story he wants to tell, straining the natural conclusion for the sake of what? For the sheer sake of lingering on a main character -- we didn't' need to know more about her superficially, and Yang wouldn't feel the need to tell us if he hadn't made her into a veneer instead of bothering to make her a more engaging and deep character to begin with.
Why else does Yang prolong and torture his movie? To get in some more of those "visually arresting images." The movie truly suffers for it. It wants to end, it has a conclusion that feels natural and leaves the viewer unsettled, but instead, Yang pushes on. Instead, Yang constructs a complex ending that leads the viewer on, causing him or her to constantly ask "so what?" The first ending, the one that Yang ignored, that was good. The second ending, well, my thought was"so what, who cares?", because it's not as if it is introducing something that hasn't been put forth in the storyline already... but the last ending? That really was a waste of time. Not only did the "real" ending leave me disengaged, but I also felt it was an affront to what the story could have been. Yang sacrificed a potentially good story for the bubblegum-melancholy-noir-tinged conclusion that he had insisted upon all along.
My last problem with the movie has nothing to do with the movie itself, but rather its post-production. The subbing (if you see it subbed) is horrible. Long sentences stay up for a second or two, while short ones stay up far too long. Also, as Yang quickly changes images, the subtitles are removed from the screen. This is one of those rare instances that subtitles should be able to stay on the screen even as the image has changed, because there's not much dialog going on anyway.
Pinpon
(2002)
More films like this, please!
12 May 2005
I was incredibly lucky to get to view this on real film, and loved it. It turned the rather interesting sport of ping pong into a watchable, hyper, twisting story of friendship. I occasionally cried. The cinematography and special effects are splendid -- they bring it in touch with the manga it was based on, without making it inaccessibly over-produced. Also, the casting is fantastic; you can tell that the actors were type-cast, but the movie only seems to benefit from it. As others have mentioned, the soundtrack was excellent -- if Simon & Garfunkel and Japancakes collaborated on Asian pop, I think it would sound a lot like this. My only reservation is on the subbing; though it's better than dubbed would ever be, something is occasionally lost in translation when innocent phrases in Japanese end up translating into English as something connotatively very different.
Welcome to Arrow Beach
(1973)
Mixed feelings: loved the style, hated the editing. See the full version if you can.
4 April 2005
Looking over other viewer comments, I feel like I missed some significant footage -- sad, because I saw this as a candidate film for the National Film Registry. My experience was that the cannibalism wasn't even broached -- "hinted at" is a smaller and more fitting description. I started out with the understanding that the film deals with this topic, so it was easy for me to find the theme in the disjointed images that Harvey (allegedly from his deathbed) pieced together. However, in the edit that I saw, Harvey really only approached the subject during the dinner scene, which to the uninformed viewer, leaves Jason Henry coming off only as a rather perverse murderer.
As a red-toned color film, it kept with the 70s feel, especially with the Lou Rawls theme song that really seems not to fit at all, and it's definitely the sort of film that you can settle into on a Saturday afternoon.
For the most part, I felt that it was a shaky effort that obviously suffers from the (unavoidable) lack of directorial input in the final stages.
Despite this, the one incredibly positive thing I have to say is that Harvey did succeed in creating one impacting, chilling, flawless scene in a movie of otherwise so-so acting. Harvey is the perennial director, and this is never so evident as when he plays Jason Henry behind a camera. The moments just prior and after this are really unspectacular, but in the few seconds that the viewer is looking at the visage of Harvey, peering from behind the camera with diabolical intent, I was completely stunned and frightened, not because Harvey belonged in the psyche of a killer, but because the killer belonged behind the camera -- Harvey's character became more real, more insidious because the character encompassed a real person. Not a better case for method acting exists, I would venture.
As a red-toned color film, it kept with the 70s feel, especially with the Lou Rawls theme song that really seems not to fit at all, and it's definitely the sort of film that you can settle into on a Saturday afternoon.
For the most part, I felt that it was a shaky effort that obviously suffers from the (unavoidable) lack of directorial input in the final stages.
Despite this, the one incredibly positive thing I have to say is that Harvey did succeed in creating one impacting, chilling, flawless scene in a movie of otherwise so-so acting. Harvey is the perennial director, and this is never so evident as when he plays Jason Henry behind a camera. The moments just prior and after this are really unspectacular, but in the few seconds that the viewer is looking at the visage of Harvey, peering from behind the camera with diabolical intent, I was completely stunned and frightened, not because Harvey belonged in the psyche of a killer, but because the killer belonged behind the camera -- Harvey's character became more real, more insidious because the character encompassed a real person. Not a better case for method acting exists, I would venture.
Dr. Ha-Ha
(1966)
This must have been before cartoons were funny. :P
28 March 2005
Horrible cartoon, but thank goodness it's a short. The voices are ill-fitted and the animation is poor, though it does kind of resemble the style of Mad magazine back in the 60s. The one redeeming quality is that those familiar with "Hong Kong Phooey" will immediately recognize it as a springboard for that much funnier and much more entertaining series of the 1970s. The characters of Phooey and Rosemary the Telephone Operator are instantly transparent to viewers of the more recent series. James Hound, the hero in this short, is also a bumbling kung-fu artist like Phooey, and he receives messages from his boss via a tall, nasal-voiced woman very much like Rosemary. Saw this one at Library of Congress, so chances of seeing it elsewhere are probably slim.
Cool Breeze
(1972)
Blaxploitation retelling of Asphalt Jungle
28 March 2005
If you plan on watching this movie for the storyline, don't. Watch Asphalt Jungle instead. If you want to watch this movie because it's an excellent blaxploitation flick, PLEASE DO! It's a little long-winded, and starts to drag out at the end, so keep some munchies handy. (I also think that it tries to recreate Jungle with some veracity, which lends a bit of awkwardness at times.) However, keep eyes and ears open to the real exploitation going on in the film -- the white community that just does not "get it", the subtle jokes between the main characters concerning that fact, and the definite black pride (the pride not to be white) that the movie puts forth (although all of it from a paternalistic point of view, sadly.) Also, this was one of Pam Grier's breakout roles, so if you're a fan and expect to see a lot of her, you'll be disappointed, but Thalmus Rasulala more than makes up for it: he's the face you know but never can quite place, and is exactly the commanding presence and to-the-point bad boy that this movie needs. I left feeling like I needed to walk around with a wah-wah pedal playing my own little theme song for the rest of the day. (NOTE: I was able to see this film at a Library of Congress screening; it is my understanding that not many prints are available, and the film I saw actually broke half-way through but the technician was able to repair it. Good luck to you in getting the opportunity to see this one if you can.)
Witchcraft '70
(1969)
Mondo "info-tainment" -- So awful it's good.
28 March 2005
This movie was awful but SO entertaining! I chose to go and see this for my birthday -- it was free at Library of Congress -- expecting it to be a slightly bizarre documentary, but I was definitely in for a surprise. As someone who grew up watching "In Search Of..." and later was enamored of "Unsolved Mysteries" for its same "info-tainment" and "exploi-tainment" feel, I was thrilled when the movie opened with the Mondo genre's stereotypical score and narration. Sure, if you're expecting this to be a legitimate documentary or you take witchcraft and the occult seriously, you'll be disappointed; or, if you get squeamish about nudity, then this probably won't be for you. If, however, you love the sort of poor-production-quality sensationalism of things like "In Search Of..." and you love to watch 70's era-films just because the "interviewees" and actors are so over-the-top unreal, then you should love this. Keep in mind, though, that an integral part of the Mondo genre is sexploitation, so be prepared.
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