The UCLA connection

The six degrees of separation work in unexpected, whimsical ways. What do two beautifully crafted Japanese films – Ototo and Kyoto Story, by veteran Yoji Yamada – have in common with Zona Sur, the no-holds barred metaphorical critique of upper class Bolivians, directed by US-trained Juan Carlos Valdivia? Nothing at all, if one looks at how film technique, storytelling and human emotions are handled. There is no connection either between a filmmaker in his eighties, who looks at people and cities with affection and nostalgia, and a young director from Latin America with a knack for casting and an ax to grind at his social milieu. To use a quick film history shortcut, both are as far apart as John Ford and Luis Buñuel.

However, a connection, both geographical and academic can be established, when one realizes that Ichiro Yamamoto, the producer of the Japanese films, and Zona Sur cinematographer Paul de Lumen coincided at the Department of Film, TV and Digital Media between 2006 and 2007. They probably never met, but both certainly benefited from the talents and possibilities offered by our film school and the UCLA infrastructure.


A veteran producer at Shochiku – one of the major Japanese studios, already a hundred years old, and the home of Yazujiro Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi, among others – Mr. Yamamoto came to Los Angeles in 2006 on a sabbatical of sorts to learn in situ about the workings of contemporary Hollywood and imbibe the history of American cinema through classes and screenings – moving around the city by bus. Friendly to professors and students, and enthusiastic about the possibility to learn, he also had much to give. I invited him to talk about the state of Japanese production to my students in a class on the history of Asian, African and Latin American cinema in the summer of 2007. He used as an example Yamada’s Love and Honor (2006), which he co-wrote and produced. Ichiro expanded on the connections between Ozu, Kurosawa and Yamada, and their links to Shochiku studios. For one hour, the masters came to life and Japanese culture and values – as embodied in these directors – were lovingly discussed.

Mr. Yamada is in Berlin to showcase the latest work by Yamada: Ototo is the closing film of the Berlinale, and Kyoto Story was selected for the Forum. In a visual style reminiscent of Ozu and broaching a similar subject matter – six decades later – the films are delicate explorations of family and social relations, among ordinary people caught in situations of change and upheaval. They celebrate traditional values, much in the John Ford style, with a scent of nostalgia and a love for goodness. Paul Schrader might look at these pictures of Yamada as examples of ‘transcendental style. These two films, as well as the samurai trilogy preceding them – The Twilight Samurai (2002), The Hidden Blade (2004) and Love and Honor (2006) – would be a programming coup for the Billy Wilder Theater.

I had read about the successful career of Zona Sur – recent awards at Sundance for writing and directing, and the cinematography prize at Huelva, a Spanish festival devoted to Hispanic cinemas. Shown to a packed audience at the Berlinale – unfortunately minus the director and other cast and crew members, who had already left the city – the film is an impressive work, by itself and also as an example of social critique in the grand Latin American tradition.

Zona Sur is centered on a patrician and seemingly wealthy family of La Paz, headed by an elegant and tough matriarch. Not unlike Y tu mamá también in its portrait of a self-centered privileged milieu, the film subtly becomes a metaphor for Bolivia’s contemporary social and political dynamics. It avoids the trite left-wing clichés of established Latin American political cinema – and even the magical realism attached to it in the 1980s and 90s – to provide a ferocious critique of present day Bolivia, where both the Spanish-descent ruling class and the Indian masses in the Evo Morales era are reassessing themselves. This state of turmoil is stunningly captured by the sophisticated use of the camera: 360-degree pan shots, mostly of interior scenes in a beautiful home perched on the hills. At first, one wonders about this bravura camera work until it becomes evident that the meaning of Zona Sur is visually embedded in this graceful but implacable movement: the family, and by extension, the Bolivian upper echelon, is trapped in a circle of false appearances and hypocrisy. Only at the end, the camera leaves ground and literally flies unbound into the sky. In the last scene, it returns to its graceful movement to present a sweetly ironic portrait of (wishful) racial and social harmony.

Carl Laemmle – “Der Pionier von Hollywood” - at the UFA Fabrik
The UFA Fabrik is a vast cultural and ecological center in Tempelhof, a neighborhood in southern Berlin. Its oldest buildings date from the 1920s, and they were used by the UFA studio after it moved to suburban Potsdam as its post-production center. Its state-of-the art theater at the time, is still in use today. There, Carl Laemmle, founder of Universal, received a lovely homage, on the occasion of the centennial of his first feature film Hiawatha – recently shown at the Academy as part of its 1909 program. The print came from the UCLA Archive, and before its screening, Dr. Udo Bayer, director of the Laupheim Museum, in Laemmle’s hometown, gave a short talk about the pioneer’s early years in southern Germany and his life in the US, illustrated by photos.

UCLA was greatly thanked for loaning the print – that looked lovely in that historical theater – and its charming director Siegrid Niemer and associates hoped that this would be the beginning of a steady collaboration in film programming.

The UFA Fabrik has an informative website, in German and English, found at www.ufafabrik.de, with interesting historical facts and a detailed account of its multiple activities.