All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1177. An easy way of seeing how…
Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters
A fictional account of the life of Japanese author Yukio Mishima told in four parts. The first three parts relate events in three of his novels: The temple of the Golden Pavilion, Kyoko's House, and Ranaway Horses. The last part depicts the events of 25th November 1970.
Absolutely flawless. Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters takes a man who yearned to be an work of art and transforms his life into that very idea, constructing a stunning biopic of immense beauty that flows right alongside his hopes, dreams, desires, and realities. Split into four chapters (obviously), Paul Schrader builds a testament to Yukio Mishima (his pen-name) and his never-ending quest for successful nationalism by enriching moments from his multiple novels.
These segments, which make up most of the first three parts, feel universally personal in spite of their gorgeous and operatic flavor, exploding and crumbling in various ways that evoke the visualization of fleeting memories. While Mishima focuses on many important plot points like other traditional…
"Dying isn't everything, you know."
I seriously doubt this even crossed Paul Schrader's mind, but this handily sidesteps almost every biopic pitfall there is, from the huge ones like "not formally interesting" to more insidious ones like "drawing rote, superficial connections between life and work." Biopics don't have any style? This movie has Schrader juggling four or five different styles, all with their own thematic purposes and their own interconnected threads. Add in Philip Glass' rapturous, beautiful score, a certain hall of famer, and you're getting close to masterpiece territory.
I was at the screening where Lars said "ironic beheadings" too.
What the hell... why would someone make an interesting biopic, which for once actually made me want to know more about the person it was about? How ridiculous...
In all seriousness though, it's so refreshing to actually see a biopic which is made in a creative way. I loved seeing the reenactments of Mishima's fictional works as we saw parts of his real life which paralleled the events of these works or were connected in some other way. And the music, oh good fucking lord, I loved the music. I had a constant orgasm in my ears (shut up, it's possible!) because of the wonderful score by Philip Glass, which, for some reason, made me really want to watch In…
Wow, a biopic that was actually interesting! This genre usually does nothing for me…but Mishima is done in a unique enough way that it manages to remain narratively unique while still roughly staying in biopic territory. The story of Yukio Mishima is told in an odd flashback format in which it alternates between his own life story and reenactments of his fictional works. The way it’s done is just really interesting, I found it quite fun to see parallels in Mishima’s young life being played out in the books he would later write.
The film is also without doubt a visual spectacle. What is so intriguing about that 80’s flavored color palette? It’s almost like everything leans towards pastel a…
a BiOpIc BeInG aCtUaLlY gOoD
"A man's desire to become beautiful is also a desire for death."
harmonizes actual events of Mishima's life, his nationalism, his persona as an artist, his fiction, and his own self-image, ultimately fully empathizing with his will to power and violent transcendence.
Schrader paints with such broad strokes, both visually and musically, creating a film as lurid as the life of Yukio Mishima. An unorthodox biopic to say the least, but is all the most interesting because of. If the pen was Mishima's sword, then the camera is Schrader's.
So, this has to be the best bio pic ever made. This or Patton. There's actually some kinship between the mystical warrior-poet spirits of both men and film.
But Schrader's film burrows deeper. The visual design is not only stunning, it also makes the leaps between present, past, and fiction relatively easy to navigate. The film toggles between the invention and absence of self, which I've come to believe to be the basic ontological boogie of the writer.
I wouldn't want anyone to ever change a single frame of this film. I can't wait to watch it again.
Such audacious filmmaking going on here. The enactments of his novels are the best sequences.
One of the best biopics ever made, with a Philip Glass score to die for.
Aqui, Paul Schrader está no campo da encenação metafórica. São quatro capítulos que embaralham vida privada, arte e ideais do escritor Mishima, uma figura contraditória do Japão dos anos 50 a 70, e que servem justamente para expor as oposições que caracterizaram sua trajetória.
É claro que, sob a forma da cinebiografia, Schrader se vale do artista para questionar se há espaço para valores antigos na modernidade. A cena do discurso de Mishima perante os soldados japoneses é um desses momentos emblemáticos do filme, em que o anacronismo sucumbe aos novos tempos.
The beautiful cinematography and stunning music combines with the structure and three layers of narrative to create a hypnotic and unusual biopic that feels like it ends up giving a "truer" understanding of its subject that most of it's kind. The closest comparison for me would be Todd Haynes' I'm Not There, even if this is a bit more straightforward. Packs an enormous amount of material and depth into the running time, and moves along at such a pace that it never threatens to bore.
First filming I chose for the Letterboxd season challenge. I chose "Mishima: A life in four chapters" because surrounding it had a sense of quality. Paul Schrader is directing, theres a gorgeous visual style and I'm a real sucker for biopics. But I wish I had actually liked this movie.
The movie is all over the place switching from flashbacks of Mishima to Mishima's novels dramatization. What some may find a cool way to tell a persons story, I didn't think it worked. The novel stories aren't that well told so I stopped caring. I just never found this movie to be any good because it doesn't know what it wants to be.
3rd viewing, this time in a theatre(!) and with Roy Schneider's english voice over. Not as jarring as I assumed it would be (after a while you get used to the language shifts), but it does have a lighter, romantic tone that I don't think exactly fits the film. Ogata's narration feels as though he talks of his death as his "duty," perhaps, while Schneider feels like he would use "destiny."
Originally a list made prior to Cannes 2014, now updated every mid-April.
This is every Palme d'Or nominee since the…