Takashi Miike (the director) has said that Big Bang Love, Juvenile A or 4.6 Billion Years of Love is best viewed when in a state of "absent-mindedness" and that is just as easily absorbed and taken in if you happen to be nodding off during its running time. And he may just be right. I have now watched this film three times and fell asleep halfway through on the last two. And I typically try not to do that. This is not because the film is boring but rather due to the lyrical and dreamlike quality the film possesses. It has the ability to lull and carry the viewer away into a meditative trance. So I'm going to go on record right now and say how hard it is difficult to write a review of the amazing film that Miike has crafted.
For those who have never heard of Takashi Miike or the creative, compelling and controversial features that he produces at an astonishing rate (up to 15 a year), this may not be the best place to start. Big Bang stands out in Miike's canon/ oeuvre as one of his most experimental and eloquent, and that's saying something. This is a unique film. Most of us will have never seen anything like it. I have a feeling that it is not for everyone. Some will find it utterly incomprehensible, others will find it astonishingly beautiful, and still some will simply not know what to make of it.
The plot (what little there is) focuses on the budding relationship of two male inmates in a prison in the middle of a vast, empty nowhere. Both men are murderers who, though complete opposites, form a bond of love that transcends the physical realm, the sexual realm and even the realm of time. Which sounds totally pretentious, but trust me, it's not. It's emotionally honest. And did I mention how gorgeous this thing is to look at? It somehow creates the impression of drawings being put into words. It's not driven by narrative; it is more a montage of images in steady succession to form an ethereal atmosphere. Something important always seems about to happen, but on its own unexpected terms. Miike, in the brilliant and flashy (but not the kind of flashy that distracts from the meaning of the movie, but enhances it) brushstrokes of a true auteur, attempts to paint the landscape of the human heart with strikingly vivid colours.
So, while I haven't really explained anything or gotten my true feelings about Big Bang Love, Juvenile A or 4.6 Billion Years of Love across, you now know about this film and it's director, and maybe you'll see, love and treasure this film or one of Miike's other greats (such as Audition, The Bird People of China, Visitor Q, Dead or Alive, Izo, or the much vaunted Ichi the Killer). Take a risk!
For those who have never heard of Takashi Miike or the creative, compelling and controversial features that he produces at an astonishing rate (up to 15 a year), this may not be the best place to start. Big Bang stands out in Miike's canon/ oeuvre as one of his most experimental and eloquent, and that's saying something. This is a unique film. Most of us will have never seen anything like it. I have a feeling that it is not for everyone. Some will find it utterly incomprehensible, others will find it astonishingly beautiful, and still some will simply not know what to make of it.
The plot (what little there is) focuses on the budding relationship of two male inmates in a prison in the middle of a vast, empty nowhere. Both men are murderers who, though complete opposites, form a bond of love that transcends the physical realm, the sexual realm and even the realm of time. Which sounds totally pretentious, but trust me, it's not. It's emotionally honest. And did I mention how gorgeous this thing is to look at? It somehow creates the impression of drawings being put into words. It's not driven by narrative; it is more a montage of images in steady succession to form an ethereal atmosphere. Something important always seems about to happen, but on its own unexpected terms. Miike, in the brilliant and flashy (but not the kind of flashy that distracts from the meaning of the movie, but enhances it) brushstrokes of a true auteur, attempts to paint the landscape of the human heart with strikingly vivid colours.
So, while I haven't really explained anything or gotten my true feelings about Big Bang Love, Juvenile A or 4.6 Billion Years of Love across, you now know about this film and it's director, and maybe you'll see, love and treasure this film or one of Miike's other greats (such as Audition, The Bird People of China, Visitor Q, Dead or Alive, Izo, or the much vaunted Ichi the Killer). Take a risk!
Tell Your Friends