HULA
GIRLS
SUNDAY, 17TH AUGUST, 10.00 A.M.
TUESDAY, 19TH AUGUST, 8.30 P.M.
RUNNING TIME 108 MINUTES
RATING NA
Finding a New Calling in Grass SkirtsBy Matt
Zoller Seitz, Published: July 13, 2007 The New York Times “Hula
Girls,” a melodrama from the Japanese-born, ethnically
Korean director Lee Sang-il, aims to be “The
Full Monty” in grass skirts. It’s set in Iwaki, Japan,
in 1965. With the local coal industry in decline, the town
elders hope to exploit international fascination with Polynesian
culture by building a Hawaiian-theme resort as bait for Japanese
tourists and promoting it by training local girls as hula dancers
and sending them on a bus tour across Japan.
Their teacher is Madoka Hirayama (Yasuko Matsuyuki,
whose damaged pixie charm recalls the young Shirley
MacLaine), a hard-drinking, smart-mouthed Tokyo dancer whose
very presence causes local parents to grouse that their daughters
are being corrupted. In due course, the spunky teacher whips
her crew of social misfits into professional artists and freethinking
women.
“Hula Girls” is the latest entry in a durable subgenre
about marginalized eccentrics who learn a new skill and become
better, stronger people. Despite some gritty elements — including
domestic violence, mining accidents and serious discussions about
sexual mores — the film is an encyclopedia of clichés. There’s
even a scene in which a dancer receives tragic news while on
tour and the troupe wonders if the show must go on.
You’ve seen
this film many times. It always works.
Small-town girls who get their groove on
By Mark Schilling,
Published: Friday, Sept. 22, 2006, The Japan Times
"Hula Girls" sounds, from its title, like the many
Japanese movies about loser heroes who take up minor sports or
performing arts (sumo wrestling, ballroom dancing, rowing, synchronized
swimming, swing jazz) and find their respective grooves. These
films usually end with a big, rousing finale, in which the heroes
exhibit their hard-won skills and show us that the waltz, say,
is, guess what! -- really cool. Thus the boom in ballroom dancing
prompted by the 1996 Masayuki Suo hit "Shall We Dance?"
Though
it follows this formula, the latest film by director Lee Sang-il
("69," "Scrap Heaven") also departs
from it in ways reminiscent of "The Full Monty" and "Brassed
Off" (show biz brightens up an industrial hinterland) and
Kirio Urayama's 1962 classic "Kyupora no Aru Machi" (Foundry
Town), in which Sayuri Yoshinaga plays a spunky girl struggling
to rise above her rough, factory town environment.
That is to
say, Lee and coscriptwriter Daisuke Habara blend straight-up
melodrama and social commentary into their pop entertainment
mix. Their film is a frothy, campy pineapple drink, but spiked
with a jolt of old-fashioned, eye-tearing Japanese shochu. This
mix doesn't always go down easily -- especially in the long middle
section, when the heartstring-tugging crises come along once
every 10 minutes -- but the ending is an all-stops-out crowd
pleaser that bursts with the sexual dynamism and exuberance of
hula (not the sweetened-for-the-tourist-trade version). Purists
may complain that the moves are more "Tanko Bushi" ("Coal
Mining Song") than the real Hawaiian deal, but these girls
can shake it. Have I sold you on this movie yet?
It begins in
a setting as far removed from Waikiki as could be imagined: a
dreary coal-mining town called Joban that, in 1965, was in an
irreversible decline that the town fathers were trying desperately
to reverse. One of them, the fluttery, bumbling but determined
Yoshimoto (Kishibe Ittoku), has the brainstorm of starting a
Hawaiian Center as a tourist magnet, whose main drawing card
will be hula performed by local lasses. (This is not another
high concept fantasy, but based on the true story of Joban's
still ongoing contribution to Hawaiian culture.) He hires a professional
dancer from Tokyo, one Madoka Hirayama (Yasuko Matsuyuki), as
a hula teacher. She arrives looking totally Mod (white sheath
dress, big shades, dangling cigarette), bored and out of place.
To many of the local folk, particularly the no-nonsense, quick-tempered
Chiyo (Sumiko Fuji), the whole idea of bringing Hawaii to the
mines is an affront to community dignity, tradition and mores.
When the local girls Yoshimoto lures to a recruiting session
see a scratchy film of hula and realize that it involves shaking
their hips and exposing their midriffs, they blanch and take
flight. The only survivors are the bubbly, stage-struck Sanae
(Eri Tokunaga), her reluctant pal Kimiko (Yu Aoi), the geeky
Shoko (Shoko Ikezu), a clerk in the mining company office, and
the big, lumbering Sayuri (Shizuyo Yamazaki), whose eccentric,
show-biz-loving father dragooned her into coming.
The girls are
predictably hopeless and Madoka, who has taken the job under
duress (from what, is to be revealed), barely goes through the
motions of teaching them, while drinking and smoking herself
into oblivion. But when the feisty Kimiko rebels, Madoka feels
a stirring of conscience -- and ambition. She will turn this
motley crew into hula dancers if it kills them, but first she
has them relearn movement, from the feet up. (The hip shimmy
comes later.)
Meanwhile, she has some lessons of her own to learn
about local pride, taught by a drunken Yoshimoto (in an outburst
that surprises him as much as her) and Kimiko's loutish, but
good-hearted, older brother Yojiro (Etsushi Toyokawa), who becomes
Madoka and Kimiko's defender against the wrath of his mother,
the aforementioned Chiyo (that he also has his own designs on
the sexy, stylish Madoka goes without saying). Finally, the girls
who had first fled return -- and Madoka has the rough makings
of a dance troupe.
This is same basic pattern as Shinobu Yaguchi's 2004 hit "Swing
Girls," but where Yaguchi kept the tone consistently bubbly
and light, Lee ladles on the dramatic complications, from the
usual one of parental opposition to various setbacks and disasters
that reflect the hardscrabble realities of life in mid-1960s
Japan -- and at times feel dragged in from another movie.
In
its last act, however, the film comes triumphantly to life as
the girls strut their stuff, particularly Yu Aoi in a bring-down-the-house
solo, with Lee's camera capturing every erotically explosive
moment. Sayuri Yoshinaga was never like this. Forget Honolulu
-- Joban, here I come.
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