O Livro de Cabeceira

I think Greenaway makes very smart films, and I'm really glad he's around. His intellect is always tuned to ideas about the visual, so we get a double measure: his images and his commentary on those same images. You should see this film if you think about communicating by image -- you won't find more beauty and recursive visual depth anywhere else.

There are a few flaws in my mind, notable only because the film is so remarkable and because Greenaway shoots so high. A central dance here is the art of the writing (its appearance) and how that relates to the art the writing points to (its semantic meaning). So much elaboration of this works so well that I wonder why Greenaway went to such trouble to make the storyline so comprehensible. It is almost as if he is pandering to critics of his less accessible work. This greatly dilutes the impact for me, takes away from the point that the immediacy and fluidity and directness of the presentation by sense at least trumps the recoil by the mind. Perhaps is wholly substitutes. So why make so much sense? So that people will watch who wouldn't otherwise get it?

I wish Greenaway played more with contrasting ritual with spontaneity, especially since the Japan/Hong Kong cultural contrast, the publishing versus modeling contrast (permanent versus faddish), and the promiscuous lovers versus the honored parents all set things up so well. In particular, the soluble temporary nature of the writing turned into permanent tattoos at the end. What of that? It looked decorative only. Her breasts her new pillowbook?

If you liked this film, you'll like the book: `Life: a User's Manual' (Perec) which works the same territory but has a better sense of how to come to an end. The hero spends a decade traveling to paint watercolors. These are turned into jigsaw puzzles which he spends a decade reassembling, rebinding the paper, and bleaching out the image. Each puzzle reflects on a story associated with a room or person in the Paris apartment building he has maintained and populated with unwitting tenants.

Like many of Peter Greenaway's movies, Pillow Book features extensive nudity. However, while the plot development is well worked out, the cast is competent, and Greenaway shows off a dazzling array of cinematic techniques, he always seems to approach his material too intellectually to really engage the viewer's emotions. I cannot know his intentions, but my impression is that he regards his scripts as more akin to a complex mathematical puzzle to be worked out than a story about real people with human feelings, leaving the movie worth watching but curiously cool and clinical rather than passionately erotic.

First of all, let me make one thing clear:

This is not a "movie," not in the normal sense of the word. This is FILM ART. There is a massive difference between the two, and it effects the review of this film.

If viewed as a movie, this film is pretentious, over-visualized, non-plotted...and VERY slow and boring. Nagiko is not a character to be sympathized with (at least not until the very, very, VERY last moments in the film), and all the other characters have no history or background to make them indentifyable by the viewer. Jerome is eye-catching, but not extremely interesting, despite the fine acting of Ewan MacGregor. The fault is not in the actors--it is the script. The viewer is given no reasons to feel anything besides erotisism for the two characters and their plotting together. One is merely thrown into their story, and who can really care for a nit-wit of a girl with a fettish for body art, or a man who is overly vain, sells himself for what he wants, and basically plays games with the people he loves? Alright, there is some sort of interest in the morbid or perverse sense, but beyond that base type of curiousity, there is nothing more involving. In terms of storywritting, this film is absolutely terrible. In many moments, one feels like one is watching glorified porn.

HOWEVER...

As film art, "The Pillow Book" was stunning. The visuals are AMAZING. There is so much beauty in the making of this film, running from the sound of running water to the wonder of the human form. The non-linear aspect of the film gives it a dreamy and surreal quality, as well as a suprising sense of wonder.

There is a sheer erotisism to the film, but it is conveyed (for the most part) in a beautiful and "clean" sort of way. It makes even the minute detail, such as a caligraphy brush or a button, a sensual work of art. Mere "scribbling" becomes astounding and moving--such as the Lord's Prayer written upon Nagiko's body.

The film also includes a cold sense of revenge by way of the Publisher. One can't but feel gleefully satisfied that the man gets what he rightly deserves. And one can almost touch the peace that Nagiko gains for herself in the end.

Now, there are many other messages to be garnered from the film, such as the woman's liberation aspect portrayed, but in this I believe that such musings come almost totally from the mind of the viewer and the associations thereof...many could totally miss such messages in the overwhelming depth of sensuality displayed. Sometimes, a film is just a film; don't give it credit for messages that don't exist. It may be that the director had nothing of the sort in mind. If anything, give it credit for evoking the thoughts from your own mind.

All in all, visually stunning and emotionally evoking...as a work of art. As a story however...it is a dismal failure.

But it is at least worth seeing. Once.

"The Pillow Book" is an erotic masterpiece. A story that unravels like a Japanese scroll. It teases and excites us with floating images. It's Greenaway's masterful technique, the same that he used so successfully in "Prospero's Books". He captures our attention and plays with our emotions. I don't understand one character in Japanese calligraphy but the idea of writing a poem or a prayer or a story on human skin is certainly an original one. Calligraphy is always charming to look at as the camera wanders about the human anatomy. Even the Lord's prayer in English takes on a very personal meaning when it scrawls across the chest and arms and ends up somewhere below the navel. The story itself is simple enough. Its about two people -a Japanese girl and a Westerner - falling in love. There's nothing new in that. But it's the progression of their romance through their calligraphic foreplay that binds our attention. It's beautifully and delicately portrayed - somewhat dream-like in its presentation. There's a suicide scene which one might expect would draw this romantic drama to a close, but no! the story gathers pace and races on to unexpected heights. Based on observations made by Sei Shonagon in the 10th century, the Pillow Book is a collection of 13 essays entitled "Book of Youth", "Book of the Seducer". "Book of Secrets", "Book of the Dead" etc. But essentially this is about "The Book of the Lover". Some audience will cringe with horror when they see how this book is prepared. Ewan McGregor and Vivian Wu are to be congratulated on their exceptional performances( and backed by a competent cast} in a most original and memorable production.

A difficult but beautiful film that treats of love, sex, betrayal, revenge, and a young woman's attempt to control her own creative process. Best understood as a visual diary (the "pillow book" of the title), but it does have a plot, if one pays close attention. Nagiko, the protagonist, struggles to become a writer through her relationships with three men who, in different ways, personify her muse: her late father, a writer; her father's publisher, who coerced her father into sex as the price of publication; and Jerome, the attractive young English translator who is the publisher's current lover and her own. This film will repay multiple viewings, however fractured its treatment of Japanese language and culture.