Showing posts with label Japan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japan. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Synchronized Walking (WTF??)

[post 330]

After six months with only a handful of posts, this blog is back, and what better way to restart than with something sublimely silly: Japanese Synchronized Walking!

It just so happens that I'm a big fan of snazzy group movement —  Busby Berkeley, marching bands, and massive chase scenes are all A-OK in my book — but this is different. It's... it's.... oh just watch first, then I'll tell you what I've learned.



On one level, it's all so serious, yet a lot of the humor seems intentional, and of course I couldn't help but enjoy the costume change (0:55,) the domino fall (5:04), the character poses (8:00), and all the intersecting patterns.

Here's the background, as provided by Makiko Itoh on the web site quora.com.

It is not a competition at all, but an exhibition put on by the Nippon Sport Science University (NSSU), a university dedicated to physical education. Most of the graduates go on to become PE teachers, trainers and coaches. 

The movement is called "shuudan koudou"(集団行動)or group movement. It's similar to military movement exercises, or synchronized marches by marching bands, but more intricate. Among other things it's supposed to help train the NSSU students to manage large groups in the future. (Japanese schools often have morning exercises and assemblies and such where the entire student body is gathered together. They're expected to line up at equidistant from each other, stand at attention when the principal comes to the podium and that kind of thing.) I'm guessing though that it's just a fun thing to do.


Group movement is a tradition at NSSU along with things like cheerleading. As far as I know it's unique to NSSU. There are no open group movement competitions. 


Most people love the synchonized movement and humor, but some find it uncomfortable to watch since it reminds them of military demonstrations that are similarily synchronized.


I'm thinking maybe the unease with it seeming to be too militaristic (or corporate) is what inspired the comic touches.

You can find some variations here and of course via a YouTube search.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Around the World in 212 Days with Ken Feit

Ken Feit performance poster courtesy of Jef Lambdin

[post 309]
My October series honoring the 72nd birthday of the late, great "itinerant fool" Ken Feit included a post on his incredible travel journals, reproduced in the form of three PDFs. At the time I mentioned that I was still missing the holy grail letter, the one about his most ambitious trip, a seven-month, around-the-world journey that took him and San Francisco street juggler Ray Jason from the U.S. to England, Scotland, France, the Netherlands, Germany, Poland, Russia, Japan (via the trans-Siberian Express), Korea, Taiwan, the Philippines, Thailand, Burma, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia (including Bali), China, Australia, New Zealand, and French Polynesia. Phew!

And now thanks to Barbara Leigh of the Milwaukee Public Theatre, we have that 22-page document and, with a bit of serendipity, a "new" poster (above; click to enlarge) of Ken unearthed by my old buddy, North Carolina mime performer and movement historian Jef Lambdin. Yahoo!

What was amazing about Ken's adventures was his total openness and his genius for quickly getting to know some of the most fascinating people — many of them performing artists — wherever he went. I travel a lot, and do my best to go beyond the artificiality of the pre-fabricated tourist experience, but I definitely feel like a gringo in Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt compared to Ken.

_______________________________________
In Java, performances last for nine hours, in Bali for four hours, and the audience generally falls asleep or steps out at times. The trick is to know when to wake up, generally around 2:00 AM when the clowns come on the scene; the performance ends at sunrise.
_______________________________________

These are travel journals, not just performing arts research, but within its pages you will find adventures encompassing the Edinburgh Fringe; Russian circus; Japanese bunya, noh, and bunraku; Filipino tribal storytellers; Balinese dance and masks; Chinese opera and circus. And stories galore. One of my favorites was told to Ken by an octogenarian lumber merchant who was on Ken's official tour of China (only way to go in those days). He had lived in Shanghai from 1936 to 1941 before immigrating to the United States:

Once he was dining with a Chinese doctor when there was a knock at the door. There stood a man with a bandaged head and a bandaged object in his hand. Unwinding his head gauze revealed that his ear was missing; he was holding it in his hand. The doctor upon examining the ear sent him away telling him that the ear was too old and withered to sew back on. The man bowed politely and left. An hour later there was another knock. There stood the same man holding a fresh ear in his hand.

Ken's comment: "Thereafter I wore a hat in China."

Ken passed on another story to me from this same elderly Chinese gentleman, one that doesn't appear in this letter, but which I still remember: Here he was, returning to his native country after nearly four decades away. When they reached Shanghai, he decided to go see if the building housing his old office was still there. He did, and it was, so he went upstairs. Lo and behold, there was the same office door, and it still had his name on it.

You can't make this stuff up. Read and enjoy!




Click here for all the Ken Feit posts.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Japan's Got (Sight Gag) Talent

[post 186]

Last post's Japanese photo prank reminded me of some other funny videos from the land of kyogen and kabuki that I wanted to share with you. I thought this would be a quick post, but as I started to follow links, instead of hitting a dead end, I stumbled upon a treasure trove of Japanese visual humor. Eventually I realized that I wasn't looking at isolated performers but at a broader cultural phenomenon: contestants on Japanase television talent shows concocting elaborate sight gags. The work is quite creative and the results often hilarious.

I don't know if it necessrily originated here, but the most well known technique usually comes with the adjective "matrix" attached to it because it started as a parody of this "bullet time" effect made famous in the movie The Matrix (1999):


[Click here if you want to learn how this was done.]

Someone had the clever idea of recreating this visual effect live on stage using semi-hidden puppeteers clad in black, just like those in the traditional Japanese bunraku puppet theatre. (Comparisons with the work of Mummenscahanz are also appropriate.) The idea in bunraku is that it doesn't matter if we see the puppet handlers; after a while we're so caught up in the action that we phase them out. Here the joke is that the performers are pretending they're pulling off all these amazing moves but of course we can see how it's being done.

I'm betting most of you have probably already seen this extreme ping-pong match, since it went viral with over 15 million YouTube hits, but just in case....




As you'll see below, this brand of comedy took off in a big way. Much of it consists of parodies of special effects from films, which if you think about it isn't all that different from the circus clown's parody of a highly skilled act. But it has gone beyond that to encompass a fairly rich visual imagination. Curious as to where it all came from, I asked my born-in-Tokyo Bloomfield College colleague, Yuichiro Nishizawa, what if anything he knew about it. He knew a lot. Here's an excerpt from his response:

 I think all these clips are from one talent show, called
Kinchan No Kasou Taishou. The wiki in english doesn't cover the full extent of the show; here's the wiki in Japanese. The show has been on since 1975 and it's still going! The live competition is held twice per year and this is probably one of the first talent shows. Amateurs compete to win 1 million yen; the first prize, when the economy was good, had gone up to 2 million. There are 2nd and 3rd prize and there was a special prize for each category, Best Idea, Best Humor, Best Technique, etc. People from all over the country compete, the top 30–50 go on live. I have a personal connection to this Kasou Taishou. The main host for this show as well as the first host for Star Tanjo was Hagimoto Kinichi, the comedian who started the sit-com I was in; he played the father and was the one who hired me. He is a very influential figure in Japanese comedy. The English wiki on him is decent.

This 
sort of physical comedy has been around forever; some professional comedians even have a single expression for it: ippatsu gei. On Japanese tv, you see a lot of amateurs; if they become popular, they may become "entertainer" or as we call them, "talent." Many of the talents are from Kansai (Osaka), home of the Yoshimoto entertainment agency. Dave Spector is a funny American guy; he didn't come out of a talent show, but somehow became a celebrity in Japan. There are a lot of foreign amateurs who get into the industry.


Some more links from Yuichiro below, but first let's go to the videotape so you can see what the helleck I'm talking about here...

That ping-pong piece is already being referred to as "the classic matrix ping-pong." Here's a high-def remake. In this one, there's less of an attempt to make the puppeteers disappear into the shadows.



There's even a so-called "improved" version of this routine on YouTube performed by Canadian high school students, which you can find here. Not necessarily better, but not bad; unfortunately, the video was shot from the back of the audience.

No need to limit it to ping-pong, eh? Karate Matrix is pretty funny,




And here's a wild dinner scene featuring a quarreling couple and a nice rewind effect.




On YouTube you'll also find Matrix Olympics, Shaolin Soccer, Base Stealing, the Orangutan Conductor, the Ninja Thief, etc., but this one, which I first saw on the comedy for animators blog is my favorite, even if I'm not totally sure what it's about!




In a similar vein, the massage chair from hell.



Yuichiro tells me that what he's saying at the end translates as “Ohhhh, that felt great!"

Any physical comedian worth their salt sees a flight of stairs and wants to fall down it. If you know what I'm talking about, then this one is for you. Quite an elaborate set-up for a talent show!




Two more nice sight gags; neither is a matrix effect, but sorta-kinda related.






And for our finale, a rather suggestive Rocket Launch act using the theme song for Gatsby personal care products. In the end he says “Landed!”






Links:
The New Wave of Japanese Comedy
Japanftw.com
• A famous Japanese impersonator.
Japanese beatboxing
ChappieTV's YouTube channel

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Japanese Photo Prank

[post 185]

I was in Tokyo for 3½ days but spent too much of it figuring out how to get home in the middle of a hurricane. So no physical comedy report, but here's a clever sight gag I think you'll enjoy.



Clearly the guys are walking behind the van rather than hopping out, and I imagine you can rig a Polaroid-style camera to pop out a different photo, but still I'm suspicious. How, for example, did they get the camera angle for this close-up shot of the photo taken by the woman in purple? Was there a camera above the woman?? Or were the volunteer photographers actually actors? Of course it could have been legit except that they added in the close-ups of the photos just to sell the joke. Either way, I'm not complaining. Funny is funny.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Gamarjobat — Silliness Supreme

[post 150]

You've probably already seen most of the mime-y shtick these guys do, but their high energy and inspired silliness make it fresh and funny.  Thanks to Jeff Seal for the link.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Live from Paris: In Search of Mamako

[post 105]

"Live from Paris" last April, that is, where I was already undercover on the Linder and Etaix capers when I got a coded message from one Michael Evans, an operative unknown to me but apparently a go-between for a character from the 70s who at that time went by the unassuming name of Lou Campbell.  I was in Paris, I had nothing better to do (hah!), and before I could say fromage I'd been given the assignment to track down legendary Japanese pantomimist Mamako Yoneyama, rumored to be hiding out in that City of Light Mimes.  Evans (if that's his real name) had first met Yoneyama — code name Mamako— at the 1974 International Mime Festival at Viterbo College in Lacrosse, Wisconsin, organized by yet another "Lou Campbell."  Or was he in fact the same person??  Evans' rambling confession about that festival — an event whose foreign ideas about movement theatre forever corrupted the minds of a whole generation of impressionable Americans in tights —has finally been released thanks to the Freedom of Information Act,  and now the general public can view it here, including incriminating sketches and notes such as these:


I had never seen this Mamako character perform. I knew she had a glowing reputation, but biographical data was suspiciously sketchy. The only background info on the perp was from a book called Mime and Pantomime in the 20th Century, but for reasons unknown not published until 2008:

Born in 1935, Mamako began dancing at a very early age. Her father, a schoolteacher, was a dancer by choice, performing for a local ballet company. Mamako naturally being exposed to her father’s talent, became involved in dance. By the time she was a teenager, Mamako was the acclaimed best dancer in school. She attended Tokyo University where she studied physical education. In addition, she studied modern dance under the aegis of Egichi-Miya, the famous Japanese choreographer/dancer. She rose quickly to stardom in Japan.


She attended the debut performance of Marcel Marceau in Tokyo and immediately made up her mind to study with him in Paris. Once she acquired the foundation of style mime technique, she returned to become a curiosity in her own culture.

Because pantomime was so new in Japan, it offended her to read that her mime was regarded as "twisted dance." She came to the United States and did well in Hollywood, but she was lonely there. Dr. Lou Campbell first met Mamako at San Francisco State University in a Stage Movement Master Class that he developed through the American Educational Theatre Association pre-convention sessions in 1972. She performed at the First International Mime Institute and Festival in 1974 and at subsequent other mime festivals around the U.S. where she received great accolades. After a long stay in Japan, she decided to move to Paris.  Only recently did she decide to return to her home country.


The form of mime for which Mamako is most noted is called Zen Meditation Mime. She claims that “It is the same as that which a Buddhist Monk experiences while meditating on a particular environment.”  It is not literal pantomime but a collection of impressions derived from an environment.


That Campbell character again! Just to be thorough, I checked to see who the purported author of this book might be, and it was none other than... Lou Campbell!  Campbell writing about Campbell. Coincidence? I think not. This plot was thickening as surely as a bouillabaisse going into its third hour on the stovetop.  But where to start?  Like Dick Tracy before me, I turned to my wristwatch for an internet search, my eagle eye uncovering an obscure reference to Mamako on a blog by Tokyo writer Yuri Kageyama.

Moi to YuriMamako? Still alive? Living where?

My wristwatch soon beeped with a reply, which it dutifully translated from the Japanese as "I've read about her performance as recent as a couple of years ago. They were in Japan, but I only learned about them on the Web afterward and so I couldn't go check it out. Her death would make news here for sure. And I have not seen any such reports."

She was alive but apparently living in Japan. Me, I was stuck in Paris, volcanic ash shutting down every airport west of Kiev.  My pockets stuffed with cash, just a small portion of the enormous profits from this blog, and yet no way to hop a quick flight to Tokyo.  Curse you, Iceland! One door had opened, but another had been slammed right in my kisser.

A little secret: a good detective makes his own luck... and his own contacts.  Checking my Rolodex for Franco-Japanese go-betweens, my finger landed on the tattered card of  one Bernard Collins (code name Compagnie BP Zoom), an American in Paris frequently back and forth to Japan, with "clowning" as his cover for other activities I have sworn not to disclose.  Would he fess up to having seen Mamako?

Paris–Tokyo–Paris. Hmm... might they not be toiling for the same cartel?  Turns out Collins' "agent" had in fact introduced him to our suspect on a previous occasion. Bingo! Not only was she alive and well, but said "agent" knew exactly how to reach her.  End of search! All that remained was the judicious application of a certain amount of pressure — long distance yet oddly effective — for our new agent friend to turn over the necessary contact info, now safely in the hands of the entity or conglomerate known as Lou Campbell.

My reward?  I'm not talking, but you can be sure it won't appear on my 2010 IRS return.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Wacky Japanese Commercials

[post 055]

We all know how hard it can be for a Hollywood star to make ends meet these days, what with the economy and all, which is why so many famous actors and directors have to choose between waiting tables and doing Japanese commercials. These commercials are so demanding that only a select few choose to go this route. Thanks to guest poster Jonathan Lyons for alerting me to a practice that recalls the slave trade of centuries past.

If you think I'm exaggerating, just look at Brad Pitt being forced to lift a 600-pound sumo wrestler in this Softbank commercial directed by none other than Spike Jonze.






Serving you any way necessary, indeed! Apparently Brad did have some help from wires, but I suspect that was meant to protect Mr. Sumo and not our beloved Brad.



And as if that weren't enough, Brad was forced into a second humiliation, humbling himself as the wrestler's nursemaid in plain view of the clientele at a fine dining establishment.




I know what you're saying: what's next, changing his diapers?

Well, they do say bad luck comes in threes. Big-Shot director Wes Anderson, who happens to be a Big Fan of Jacques Tati, filmed another one of these Softbank commercials, this time forcing Pitt to wear a hideous yellow outfit and do a weak imitation of Tati's Monsieur Hulot character. Bad idea. If you read internet comments — and they are like The Bible to me — no one knew who Pitt was imitating or why he was stiffly bending his torso like that.



I should stop there, but as it turns out Brad Pitt isn't the only inglourious basterd being forced to make a fool of himself on the other side of the globe. Even Quentin Tarantino needs to rake in some occasional chump change.




I told you we shouldn't have let SONY buy MGM.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Early Film: The Kiriki — Japanese Acrobats (1907)

[post 043]

This one has recently surfaced on Facebook and YouTube, but probably most of you haven't seen it yet, so let's add it to my early film collection, complete with all the background info.

First just enjoy the video...




Hopefully you got the joke! What I like about it is how it progresses from the plausible to the implausible. Quite silly, quite funny. Here's that background info, courtesy of the excellent web site, Europa Film Treasures:

Ki Ri Ki — Japanese Acrobats
Production date: 1907

Irresistible film that inspired many artists (including choreographer Philippe Decouflé), this three-minute gem was shot by Segundo de Chomón (1871-1929), special effect specialist hired by Pathé to direct a series of films based on special effects and meant to compete with those of Georges Méliès.

 Chomón witnesses the birth of the cinematograph in 1896 during a stay in Paris. This Spanish man originating from Teruel quits his office job and starts working for Georges Méliès as a colorist. He moves on to Pathé Frères where he contributes to set up a system of industrial coloring: the Pathécolor.


In 1901, Chomón settles in Barcelona. He directs numerous documentaries, has a go at animation and effects. Called back by Pathé to Paris, Chomón works as a camera operator on Le Roi des Aulnes (The Erl-King) in particular. He directs all in all about forty films and makes an attempt at every genre.


This film only existed in its black and white version. Thank to the collaboration of the Cinémathèque Française, depositary of the black and white original single-perf negative, we have been able to make three positive prints. Hélène Bromberg colored the film in the old fashion way, frame by frame, using as a color chart a 2-meter long fragment of the nitrate original, rediscovered in a private collection.

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Segundo de Chomón’s tumblers, human pyramid virtuosos, hobble along but their somersaults fall a little flat. And once the “trick” is disclosed, the capers reveal themselves to be bluff. But what skill! A buffoonery far from ridiculous.

 Chomón is an editor, and he masters effects and splicing marvelously. The film is back in its original splendor. It will turn you upside down.

Director: Segundo de Chomón
Nationality: French
Length: 2' 41"
Genre: trick film
Sound: silent with soundtrack
Original elements: black & white
Producer: Pathé
Composer: Eric Le Guen
Original language: French