Seeing 'The Ninja Hunt' in Ikebukuro!

The Ninja Hunt (1964) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On March 4, I saw a screening of the Toei actioner The Ninja Hunt (1964) at Ikeburkuro's Shin Bungeiza theater. Not only had I not seen this one before, I'm not sure I'd seen any Toei ninja film from this era, so I was particularly curious to see how I'd like it.

Overall, the movie is pretty good, but it's nothing too extraordinary. It's a typical action programmer that doesn't have huge ambitions beyond telling a simple story and delivering some excitement. The movie did surprise me, however, in just how explicit it was. It's very violent, especially by the standards of the time. Several characters experience Lucio Fulci-style eye trauma, and, even more shockingly, there's a teaspoon of nudity. (It's brief and semi-hidden, but you can definitely see it.)

The 35mm print was kind of rough in parts, but it was very watchable. Despite being made in 1964, it looks like it could have been shot 10 years earlier. I'm not sure if that was a film stock issue, but the movie looked much creakier and more antiquated than its year of production would suggest. 

The Ninja Hunt was a decent watch. Its bad guys were certainly bad, so you will likely find yourself rooting for their demise by the end. I look forward to seeing other offerings at this theater very soon!

A Night at the Flicks Takes Us Back to the '80s!

Stand by Me (1986) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Tuesday night, March 26, I decided to take a break from all the craziness going on in my life right now to catch two flicks I'd never seen before. The films in question were Stand by Me (1986) and St. Elmo's Fire (1985). The screenings took place at the Shin Bungeiza in Ikebukuro, and unfortunately they were apparently Blu-ray projections, although the picture quality for both films was surprisingly good.

The first movie was Stand by Me, and I have to admit that I didn't care a whole lot for it. For all the complaints about unlikable characters that the evening's other film has received over the years, I think Stand by Me certainly has it beat in that department. If the kids weren't obnoxious, they were unpleasant. The only thing that made the audience root for them is that they were up against a gang of older (and even worse) ne'er-do-wells.

Watching the flick did seem to bring back an old memory that I had long forgotten, though. I'm pretty sure sometime in the sixth grade that the campfire discussion the kids have about what kind of creature Goofy is sparked a similar debate in my class. (I guess the movie must have been shown on cable or whatever, and some of my classmates watched it.)

Otherwise, I found the movie mostly unremarkable.

St. Elmo's Fire (1985) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick

St. Elmo's Fire, on the other hand, was pretty good. I enjoyed quite a bit of the film's humor, and there were story lines that I couldn't predict. There aren't any easy answers for the characters, and they don't always get what they want, but the movie ends in a happy-enough way for them. I definitely wouldn't say it's a great work of art or some kind of masterpiece, but it held my attention much more than the other flick. See it if you haven't.

Seeing 'Apocalypse Now' in 4K!

Apocalypse Now (1979) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight (Wednesday, January 3), I returned to the Shin Bungeiza theater in Ikebukuro to catch Apocalypse Now (1979) in 4K. Of course, it was the Final Cut version, which isn't my favorite, as I've always felt the original theatrical edit was by far the best version.

By my count, this would be the fourth time I've seen Apocalypse Now theatrically. The first time I saw it was circa 2018 at Toho Cinemas as part of its long-running program of showing classic movies at 10:00 a.m. That, of course, was the theatrical cut. Then I saw it again twice in 2020 when The Final Cut was released here via Toho Cinemas.

Apocalypse Now at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

I have nothing to say about the movie that hasn't already been said countless times. It truly is a masterpiece. I will say, however, that the French plantation sequence really drags the film down. Instead of building up to the climax with Kurtz (Marlon Brando), the story gets interrupted by a puzzling sequence featuring wine-drinking and poetry-reciting Europeans. It's completely out of place and just isn't that interesting. 

 Nonetheless, the film looks amazing on the big screen, and the theater was literally shaking during some of the louder scenes -- a nice touch! I'm very glad I had the opportunity to see it again this way.

Seeing 'Videodrome' in 4K!

Videodrome (1983) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight (Monday, December 18), I went to the Shin Bungeiza theater in Ikebukuro to catch a screening of Videodrome (1983) in 4K. Now here's a movie I never expected to see in a theater, so the opportunity was just too good to pass up. (I should also point out that it was billed as the director's cut, though I don't know how it's different from the theatrical release.)

I can't say I'm a huge fan of director David Cronenberg's work, but I do admire some of his films. Taking a look at his filmography, I've also seen Scanners (1981), The Fly (1986), A History of Violence (2005), Eastern Promises (2007), and Cosmopolis (2012). Other than Cosmopolis (which I only saw for George Touliatos' role as a barber toward the end of the movie), I enjoyed all these films to some extent, but Videodrome has always been my favorite of his.

Godzilla guards the soda machine against marauding kaiju. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Interestingly, when I saw the title Maps to the Stars (2014) in his filmography, it seemed strikingly familiar to me, but I can't remember if I actually saw it or not, which probably doesn't say a whole lot for the movie. 

Prior to this screening, I'd probably seen Videodrome three times before -- all of which were on DVD. I believe the last time was circa 2013 when I was still living in Nakatsugawa, Gifu Prefecture. While the film has all the typical scenes of "body horror" that you'd expect from Cronenberg, I've always felt this movie never went too far with it, which is one reason I'm partial to it. (Thankfully, no scenes of Brundlefly vomiting on his food can be found here.)

Photo by Brett Homenick.

As for the film, James Woods is effective as a sleazebag TV executive who stays just sympathetic enough for the audience to care about. Moreover, I was surprised at how small Deborah Harry's role was (it's almost an extended cameo), though she likewise does a good job with the material she's given. Rick Baker's FX hold up quite well, too. I could go on and on, but I really don't have anything negative to say about the movie at all. The whole thing just works.

I also got a kick out of seeing the late Michael Lennick's onscreen credit at the end, too. In fact, I remember buying the Criterion release of the film in early 2007 after I interviewed him about his work on Virus (1980) simply because I knew he worked on the film (meaning Videodrome, not Virus). 

Photo by Brett Homenick.

One other thing that really stood out to me was that the early '80s look and vibe of the film added to its creepiness. I guess it's a bit hard to put into words, but, had it been shot just a few years later, I think it would have lost something intangible. It's a movie that was definitely made at the right time. 

All in all, it was a great evening at the movies. I really enjoyed this one and give it a full-throated recommendation. 

Godzilla Sighted in Ikebukuro!

A Mandarake Nayuta advertisement in Ikebukuro Station. Photo by Brett Homenick.

While passing through Ikebukuro Station earlier tonight, I saw something quite unusual -- an ad for Mandarake Nayuta! I've never seen an advertisement like this in the station before. In fact, I didn't even know there was a Mandarake shop nearby! Gotta love these surprises you find in this city.

Seeing 'Suspiria' in 4K!

Suspiria (1977) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Oh, [Suspiria], I'm down on my knees 

I'm begging you please to come home 

Come on home

-- Simon & Garfunkel

Tonight (Wednesday, November 29), I returned to the Shin Bungeiza theater in Ikebukuro to catch a screening of Dario Argento's Suspiria (1977) in 4K. I'd only seen the movie once before, and that was in the early days of YouTube. Yeah, my first experience with it (back in late December 2007) was watching it on the platform in 10-minute segments in low resolution. I have a buddy in Chicago who digs horror movies, and I remember talking with him about the film at length after watching it. I wasn't impressed with it at the time, but I figured seeing it in 4K on the big screen would be the best way to give it a second chance.

Thanks to the various Mill Creek 50-movie box sets, I've seen several other Dario Argento movies, and, if I'm being completely honest, I haven't liked most of them. Offhand, it's hard for me to name the ones I've seen because I almost instantly forget about them after viewing them. Circa 2008, I saw Deep Red (1975) on one of the aforementioned Mill Creek sets, and I've always considered that my favorite Argento film. Gotta catch that one again.

Suspiria merch for sale! Photo by Brett Homenick.

As for Suspiria, I was kind of tickled how similar the opening of the movie was to Evil of Dracula (1974). Both films open with a taxi ride by our out-of-towner protagonist to a creepy school run by ghouls and goblins (not to be confused with the band Goblin, who provides the score for the flick). In the late '90s, I remember hearing from more than one tokusatsu fan the old yarn about how George Lucas ripped off the story of The Magic Serpent (1966) for Star Wars (1977), so I probably shouldn't give anyone wild ideas here. I mean, some people still believe that RoboCop (1987) was a rip-off of Space Sheriff Gavan (1982-83).

Wow, did I get off-topic. That might be because I don't have much else to say about the film. Interestingly, seeing it in 4K on the big screen didn't change my opinion one iota. It's certainly a much better visual experience, and the film definitely does look amazing in general, so I'll give it credit for that. But I didn't find the story engaging, nor did I find it particularly creepy or remotely scary.

No argument here that maggots are gross, and looking at them is unpleasant, but that doesn't mean showing them in a movie automatically puts you in "master of horror" (whatever that's supposed to mean, anyway) territory. The movie isn't very well acted (which, in fairness, might be more of a problem with the voice actors who dubbed the principals), the scares aren't very scary (the fake blood looks exactly like what it is, and the stabbing in the first death scene seemed surprisingly lethargic), and the climax was a let-down (despite all the build-up, the final boss was sure defeated pretty easily).  

I did enjoy the score by Goblin and the visuals, but that was about it. I think it's fair to say that Dario Argento movies just aren't my cup of tea. I do want to see Deep Red again at some point, as I'm sure I'd have a better time with that one. (I still vividly remember the opening scene, which sure is an attention-grabber.)

Seeing 'The Exorcist' in Ikebukuro!

The Exorcist (1973) at the Shin Bungeiza theater. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight (Wednesday, November 15), I saw William Friedkin's The Exorcist (1973) for the first time in its entirety on the big screen in Ikebukuro's Shin Bungeiza theater. Once again, the theater didn't specify if it was 4K or what, but the picture seemed to be a flawless DCP, regardless of however many K there were.

I mentioned in a previous blog post that I'd never seen this one all the way through from start to finish. I've caught bits of it here and there on cable over the years, and I'd wager I'd seen at least half the film that way. Those scenes were mostly of Linda Blair's possession, which, quite frankly, are the weakest scenes in the movie.

As I said in the aforementioned blog post on William Friedkin's career, I just don't think kids are scary. What's more, it's never clear to me exactly what the threat is that possessed Regan (Linda Blair, of course) presents. Other than those of an Internet troll and Darren Drozdov, her powers seemed rather limited to me. 

Max von Sydow dies in her presence offscreen, and I suppose the implication was that possessed Regan killed him. But he was a bit on the older side and could have easily keeled over from a heart attack due to the stress of it all. In fact, Regan appeared to have this odd "I didn't do it" expression on her face when Jason Miller reentered the room, making the situation even murkier. 

To its credit, I do appreciate that the film took pains to show that it was taking place in the real world. Even widely regarded horror flicks like The Shining (1980), another movie for which I've never shared most folks' enthusiasm, seem to be taking place in some alternate universe where horror-movie logic applies from the get-go.  

There's a scene in a bar early on in which Jason Miller describes his crisis of faith to another priest. The ambience of that scene was totally real -- I felt like I was in that bar in 1973 -- and I wish it went on much longer. Too bad sequences like that were cut short so that Linda Blair could debut as an insult comic.

I was mostly bemused by the decision to make Ellen Burstyn's character an actress. It really doesn't come into play at all in the movie and was more distracting to me than anything else. It also took away from the "average family" approach that it seemed the filmmakers wanted to take. Burstyn's character could have been rewritten as having any other job, and you wouldn't have lost anything. (If anything, it would have made her character more relatable.)

It's true that special effects become dated, and audiences become more cynical and jaded over time, but I still found Deliverance (1972), a film from the same time period, to pack quite a punch when I saw it around the same time in my teens. Besides, I love plenty of old horror movies for a variety of reasons, so I certainly wouldn't say I'm too hard on these movies. 

I should also point out that this was the director's cut, and it might be fair to say I would have enjoyed the theatrical cut more. I found the infamous "spider-walk" scene ridiculous, and I'd wish the movie had taken a more subtle approach to the possession. Even with all the histrionics at play, I never felt any threat or danger.  

Seeing 'Branded to Kill' in 4K in Ikebukuro!

Branded to Kill (1967) at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Sunday, November 5, my friend Jacob and I attended a screening of Nikkatsu's Branded to Kill (1967), Seijun Suzuki's stylish crime thriller at Ikebukuro's Shin Bungeiza theater. The film was represented in a 4K remaster that looked absolutely perfect on the big screen. 

Branded to Kill at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

I first saw the movie circa 2013 on DVD. Honestly, I wasn't that impressed with the movie at the time. I could recognize the talent and hard work that went into it, but I felt the story itself was rather boring. The story simply couldn't hook me. 

Actress Anne Mari. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Unfortunately, I had the same reaction this time. The visuals were excellent, but the story was lacking. It just never grabbed me, and by the end I was getting a bit bored. I wish I could love it like most other film fans do, but I don't. I find it a rather tiresome exercise in style over substance.

Actress Anne Mari. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The highlight, however, was the Q&A with actress Anne Mari after the screening. She couldn't always answer the interviewer's questions -- admitting multiple times that she just couldn't remember what happened in those particular instances -- but she was in great spirits and was a joy to see. When the audience was taking photos, my friend Jacob waved to her, which caused her to notice us. She asked us from the stage if we could understand Japanese, to which I gave her a thumbs up or an OK gesture (can't remember which) to tell her we were fine. 

I'd met Anne Mari at two previous events, so this was my first time to see her in person since late 2017. I wish I could have had the chance to speak with her personally, but you can't win them all. It was lovely just to see her again.

Tokusatsu DNA at the Tobu Department Store Ikebukuro!

Toho tokusatsu props on display at Tokusatsu DNA's pop-up store in Ikebukuro. Photo by Brett Homenick.

From October 26 through November 7, the the Tobu Department Store Ikebukuro will host a Tokusatsu DNA pop-up store on its 8th floor. Naturally, the store features many items that I haven't seen for sale anywhere else. The coolest part of all, however, was seeing a couple of Toho props from the late '90s, namely Shinichi Wakasa's original upper-body Godzilla suit used for underwater shooting in Godzilla 2000 (1999), and Shinichi Wakasa's King Ghidorah neck guignol (puppet) from Rebirth of Mothra III (1998). So, instead of a thousand words, here are almost as many photos -- enjoy!

 

A Double Feature at the Shin Bungeiza!

Sorcerer at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Today (Wednesday, October 18), I went to the Shin Bungeiza in Ikebukuro for a rather unusual double feature -- Sorcerer (1977) and Backdraft (1991). I hadn't seen either film before, so what better way to see them than on the Shin Bungeiza's massive screen?

The first film to be screened was Sorcerer. According to the theater's website, the screening was a 4K digital remaster. Just to confirm, I asked a staff member about it, and, after consulting with another employee, she told me it wasn't 4K. Hm... interesting. That said, I'm going to have to go with the website on this one. Other than a few grainy shots, the transfer did seem like 4K to my eye.

Sorcerer at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

I went into Sorcerer with basically no expectations. I only knew that it was a gigantic flop in its day and was at least partially responsible for derailing director William Friedkin's rising career. I'd heard that it's been reevaluated in more recent years, but Sorcerer still isn't a title that often gets brought up with the truly great films of the 1970s, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

I suppose I should also say a few words about my thoughts on William Friedkin's other films in general. I've only seen a handful of them, but overall he's always struck as a good but not great director. The French Connection (1971) is the film of his I'm most familiar with, and, while I certainly admire it, I don't think it deserved its Best Picture win. (I'd have given it to A Clockwork Orange in a heartbeat.) But it's the only Friedkin film I've seen multiple times. (In fact, I just watched it again on DVD a couple of weeks ago.) 

I watched To Live and Die in L.A. (1985) on DVD circa 2010 and thought it was pretty good, though not remarkable. I also saw Blue Chips (1994) a few years ago. It was likewise pretty good, but I was captivated by J. T. Walsh's performance, which really elevated the film. Walsh's "We owe it to them!" speech to Nick Nolte was excellent, and it's a scene I've revisited several times on YouTube. Rules of Engagement (2000) is another good one, which I saw in theaters when it was first released and revisited on DVD in the last few years.

But I've left out a big one, haven't I? I'm pretty sure I've never seen The Exorcist (1973) all the way through, but I would guess that I've seen the majority of it in bits and pieces on cable throughout the years. The first time I watched a good portion of it was back in 1997, and I found none of it frightening, creepy, or even remotely compelling. I guess it's just too hard to make little kids scary. I've always been baffled by reports that audiences of the day couldn't handle the movie, which to me came off as laughable much of the time. (I dunno -- maybe you have to be religious to get it.)

Oh, that's right -- Sorcerer! Why don't we get back on track? Overall, I was quite impressed with the film, and I think it's more than earned its recent reevaluation. The bridge sequences (depicted on the poster) lived up to the hype, as they were quite tension-filled. Really glad I caught this one, as for a while I wasn't sure I'd even bother. Too bad the flick didn't get a better title, though. Highly recommended.

Backdraft at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick,

I caught Backdraft immediately afterward, and this time the website and staff both agreed it was a 4K projection. I was mostly with the movie until the ending, which unfortunately descended into action-movie silliness. The best scenes were (unsurprisingly) with Robert De Niro. Not only was he the best actor in the film, but I was genuinely interested in the story line of his investigation into the identity of the arsonist. I was much less invested in the family drama between Kurt Russell (another actor I admire) and William Baldwin. It was OK, but I couldn't give it a full-throated recommendation.

A couple of other notes: Prior to Sorcerer, trailers for Dario Argento's Suspiria (1977) and Deep Red (1975) were screened. I'd be interested in checking those out whenever they're screened. Before Backdraft, an advertisement for the 60 Years of Bond screenings played, and I'll certainly try to catch some of those. 

Seeing 'Jason and the Argonauts' on the Big Screen!

Jason and the Argonauts at Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight (Tuesday, October 3), I saw Ray Harryhausen's Jason and the Argonauts (1963) for the very first time -- and what a way to see it for the first time! It was on Ikebukuro's Shin Bungeiza theater's big (and I mean big!) screen. I couldn't find the format for the screening listed anywhere, but a staff member told me it was a 2K DCP (digital projection). 

Looks like Harryhausen's friends came out to support this screening. Photo by Brett Homenick.

As a kid, I was a big fan of The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) with its rousing score, memorable monsters, and exciting action. But Jason and the Argonauts always looked to me like a "less than" version of 7th Voyage, so I guess I was never interested in checking it out. I saw bits and pieces of it here and there growing up, but never the whole thing. Admittedly, after finally watching it tonight, I don't think I missed very much.

Most of the action sequences aren't that exciting, and the mystical creatures aren't that compelling, either. Talos isn't bad, but he really poses no threat so long as you can outrun him (which every character in the film can easily do). Near as I could tell, Talos only manages to kill one character, who pretty much only has his own stupidity to blame for it. 

The Hydra had some potential, but it does nothing and is dispatched easily. The Hydra sequence was a fairly stark reminder of how unconvincing Harryhausen's animation was at capturing the movements of humans. For all the tut-tutting Godzilla movies get from stop-motion purists about their "fake" effects, it makes me wonder if any of these dynamation superfans have actually seen a stop-motion movie.

I suppose some of them might try to argue that Harryhausen put more thought and effort into carefully animating his action scenes, as opposed to, in their thinking, throwing a guy in a monster suit and letting him stomp around a miniature set. But that's not the point. Something either looks fake, or it doesn't, regardless of how much effort was put into creating something that looks objectively fake. 

Besides, none of these purists ever apply such a standard to Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), Alien (1979), or any other movie they are quick to praise as a classic that also makes liberal use of monster suits. 

(No offense intended to most stop-motion fans, of course! I've just dealt with my share of hardcores who never missed an opportunity to trash tokusatsu and praise dynamation as superior in every way when, quite frankly, nobody asked their opinions on the subject.)

I will say, though, that the final battle with the skeleton warriors is quite impressive. In fact, in some shots they simply look like living skeletons and nothing like the stop-motion creations that they actually are. So I will give Harryhausen a lot of credit there. The only drawback is that the battle more or less comes to an abrupt and unsatisfying end by having the skeletons voluntarily fling themselves into the ocean. I guess the filmmakers couldn't conceive of a more dramatic conclusion to their climax. 

Overall, I thought Jason and the Argonauts was just OK. It certainly isn't a bad film by any means, but I think it essentially matched my fairly low expectations, which I was hoping it wouldn't. I would recommend The 7th Voyage of Sinbad over this one in a heartbeat. 7th Voyage is a truly an excellent fantasy film and gets my vote as Harryhausen's best movie.

Seeing 'Ghidrah the Three-Headed Monster' in 35mm!

Ghidrah the Three-Headed Monster (1964) at Ikebukuro Humax Cinemas. Photo by Brett Homenick. 

On Friday, September 29, I attended a special screening of Ghidrah the Three-Headed Monster (1964) in 35mm at Ikebukuro Humax Cinemas. It was, as you'd expect, part of the promotional push for the upcoming Godzilla Minus One, which comes out in just over a month from now on November 3. 

In fact, Minus One director Takashi Yamazaki was on hand for the festivities. Director Yamazaki was joined by kaiju suitmaker Keizo Murase, who was assisted by Daisuke Sato. Murase-san shared his memories of working with Eiji Tsuburaya, as well as working on the suit for King Ghidorah.

Photographs of the guests weren't allowed, so you'll just have to take my word for it that they were there. After their Q&A, Ghidrah was screened to a packed house. To be honest, I was surprised at how many people showed up for the screening.

The print was in overall pretty good shape, although a few flaws were evident. The biggest one I noticed was a jump at the end of the opening credits. Otherwise, however, I was more than satisfied with it. And how cool was it to watch the movie on such an enormous screen.

One fun detail I noticed is that Shigeo Kato can be spotted as an extra in the Ueno Park scene when Akiko Wakabayashi is getting heckled for claiming to be a Venusian. Kato-san, of course, has a couple of lines a bit later in the film when he plays a tourist on Mount Aso just before Rodan appears. (In the English version, he's the one who quips, "Well, that's goodbye hat!"

One other slightly interesting note is that the "monster talk" scene elicited a few guffaws from the audience, who were otherwise silent during the screening. Obviously, that part of the movie is quite silly, so a reaction like that is to be expected, but I thought I'd point it out here. (Interestingly, when I saw Ghidrah screened at a theater in the L.A. in the summer of 1998, I don't recall any laughter during that scene. That L.A. audience was actually rather well behaved, which was a pleasant surprise to me at the time.)

Overall, a fun evening at the movies. Well, I've seen many Godzilla movies in theaters during my years in Japan, it's not all that common to see them projected on a screen of this size, so I welcome any opportunity I can get. Let's do it again!

Seeing 'Kwaidan' in 35mm!

Kwaidan at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Wednesday, August 30, I went to the Shin Bungeiza theater in Ikebukuro to catch a screening of the Oscar-nominated classic Kwaidan (1964) in 35mm. Not only was it my first time to see it on the big screen, it was my first time to see it in about 20 years. Despite that, my memory of the proceedings was surprisingly strong, and I remembered what happens in every segment -- except one.

The segment I forgot about was "The Woman of the Snow." While the opening scenes of the snowstorm remained rather vivid in my mind, I couldn't recall anything that happened after it, even how the story concluded. Given how flat the ending to that segment was, though, I guess it shouldn't be so surprising.

The film print looked good, and it was great to see this film on the big screen. You could say it's a flawed masterpiece. I've always felt the "Hoichi the Earless" segment runs too long -- almost like a movie within a movie. It damages the pace of the overall film, and the fact that the final segment is so short in comparison has always been a bit puzzling to me. 

But those are the blemishes. I like pretty much everything else about it. I think the best segment overall is "The Black Hair," but the opening snowstorm scenes of "The Woman of the Snow" might be my favorite part of the film. 

Catching 'The Guns of Navarone' in Ikebukuro!

The Guns of Navarone at the Shin Bungeiza. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Wednesday, August 16, I caught a screening of the Columbia Pictures classic The Guns of Navarone (1961) at the Shin Bungeiza theater in Ikebukuro. I'd never seen it before, so I figured seeing it on the Shin Bungeiza's massive screen would be the best way to watch it for the first time. I was a bit taken aback to find that the screening would be sourced from a Blu-ray, as opposed to a 4K remaster or DCP. (What is this -- the Pickwick Theatre?!)

Look who's guarding the soda machine. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Thankfully, the movie was still quite watchable, even if it was grainier than what I was used to. I enjoyed the movie, too, especially since I couldn't always predict where the story would go. On the other hand, I felt the climax went on too long and lost some of its tension along the way, but I was pleased with the overall film. It was also fun to see Irene Papas in an early role, as I mostly know her from her appearance as a baddie in John Landis' Into the Night (1985). 

Not sure what movie I will see next there. I saw that the theater will screen a great Showa-era horror movie at the end of the month, but we'll see if I'm available to catch a screening.