Rampo

Does this film have anything to say? Maybe. It's a speculative biopic in the vein of Wim Wenders' "Hammett" or Paul Schrader's "Mishima" about the Japanese author Edogawa Rampo (Japanese for "Edgar Allan Poe", of which he was Japan's equivalent). Set in the late 1920s at the beginning of the Showa Era in Japan, the film opens with Rampo's latest book, about a woman who has murdered her husband by allowing him to suffocate in a wooden chest, being banned by Government censors. Remarkably, an item appears in the newspaper the details of which are nearly identical to those in Rampo's novel (which the real-life woman could not have read, as it was banned). Rampo seeks this woman and then devises a handsome young alter ego to track her. Midway into the film, the narrative fissions and reality merges with Rampo's imagination.

The fact that the material shared by Rampo's novel and the newspaper's story was deemed dangerous as fiction (the censor declares the story "likely to be detrimental to public morale") yet freely published as nonfiction is critical of the double standard that pardons journalism while penalizing art and literature. Rampo's need to write such a novel and then pursue this woman beyond the confines of reality, allowing her to lock his alter ego in the chest, suggests the author's mortal fear of women, as when he ultimately surrenders to her, the narrative altogether cracks and disintegrates (quite literally). In the manner that Rampo wants to be possessed by women, but only on his own terms -- that is, within the confines of his literature -- the movie is a variation on, maybe the flip side of, 'Vertigo.'

Not exactly groundbreaking stuff, but the question of whether the film has anything more to say and what it has to say is irrelevant. There's a tendency to look at a film like this and dismiss it as empty (especially considering some of the more socially 'relevant' and blistering films to come from Japan, China and Hong Kong in recent years), but that's missing the point. "The Mystery of Rampo" is unquestionably one of the most beautiful films I've seen, the cinematic equivalent of a midnight float down the Seine under a full moon. The musical score by Akira Senju is lonely, elegant, full of intrigue, awash in moonlight, and cozy like the dark, wet corners of cobblestone streets after a rainfall. The period is evoked gorgeously, with rich blue carpets and curtains of red velvet, dusty libraries and deserted streets. Most visible light sources are either streetlights, candles, or the moon. The moon is remarkably prominent here, as everything seems bathed in its light. Moonlight reflects off characters' As a sort of prologue illustrating the content of Rampo's book, the film begins with an animated segment mostly in watercolors, which casts a spell of serenity over the film. It's not quite a sinister serenity, but an unsettling one, like a pleasant nightmare. It's how you feel when you awake unexpectedly at midnight to a dark, empty house.

There's also an unforgettable segment involving a deranged marquis who, wearing women's clothing and makeup (dressed as his mother), leads the mysterious femme fatale to a projection room in his castle where he proceeds to undress her, bind her, and project a stag film onto her naked body. Everything in this second half of the film is unusually appropriate to the ambiance of this film, even the placement of the castle near the edge of a cliff.

Courtesy of cinematographer Yasushi Sasakibara and composer Akira Senju, this is an elegant, visually luxurious film, part of whose musical theme is rendered by a music box at various points.

I know I'm not the smartest, but I found this a very confusing story, something about a writer whose story is not printed but then it comes true in real life. The writer then goes to the main woman of the story to investigate.

The main redeeming quality of this film, for me, was the visuals, which were very good and sometimes very different. Almost all of the Chinese-made movies I have seen have great color to them, and this is no exception. I was so captivated by the intriguing visuals, I didn't especially care if I couldn't follow the non-sensible and slow-moving storyline.

One of the most thought-provoking, elegant, and creative films ever made. Those who fail to come to grips with its complexity will be disillusioned by it, and they will be tempted to dismiss it as dense and pretentious. I urge them to view it again and dig deeper. If they persevere, they will find an exquisite film, rich in meaning and subtle in temper. A fantastical tale that speaks directly to man's need for self-expression in a world grown callous and intolerant. This is a deeply satisfying film - a psychological mystery that provides greater riches each time it is viewed. The soundtrack is gloriously evocative and perfectly suited to the film.

The plot centers around a Nagamochi, which is a Japanese treasure chest. A woman goes shopping while her husband, who has to stay at home because he is sick, plays hide-and-go seek with the children. He hides in the Nagamochi. The children cannot find him and finally give up. When the wife comes home, she discovers to her horror that her husband has died of suffocation in the nagamochi.

This, however, is just the plot for a novel being written by a famous writer. Just before his novel is about to be published, it is banned by the government. Since it cannot be published, he burns his work.

The next day he reads the newspaper and discovers that an incident just like that which is described in his novel has really happened. He goes to find the woman and discovers that she has the same name as the character in his novel. This must be a coincidence because he has burned his work and nobody else had ever read it.

He cannot leave this poor woman abandoned, so he goes back and writes again. As he writes page after page, the events he describes in his book happen in real life.

The movie is slow moving and surrealistic. It seems to be a dream within a dream. This will never make it on prime time, but is is a great movie with high art.

Sam Sloan

"The Mystery of Rampo" with its lush colors, mysterious and sensual (Michiko Hada is simply captivating) storyline, and dream-like sequences is the most beautiful film I've seen in the last 10 years. Every scene in this film could be framed and sold as an art poster. I don't want to give the impression that this movie is simply another demonstration of "form over substance," there is a story to tell here, a strange one worthy of Rampo ("the Japanese Edgar Allen Poe") himself, but what really makes this film stand out is the way it unfolds: the direction and cinematography are innovative. There may be many who fault this movie on its really weird/kinky/convoluted plot -- but this is one film I could watch over and over again.