The Pillow Book

First of all, this is an art movie. It's so artistic, that it is all about crazy artists and only the original writer knows what it is about. While the visuals are interesting, as well as the chosen soundtrack, they probably appeal only to ..you guessed it, artistic people. The film has it all: *, emotionally unstable girl confusing sex with art, sports maniac husband abusing wife, Ewan McGregor naked, Vivian Wu naked (although I found her highly unattractive), pathetic geeks drooling over her, etc. It carefully avoided physical violence, though I think it could have made the film less boring. I didn't know who made the film, I just got it for Ewan McGregor. Then I found out that the director also did The Cook the Thief His Wife & Her Lover which was also a piece of arty trash. Maybe I am too dumb to realize when something really deep is going on in a movie, but while I am, I will mark this kind of "look at me, I am the coolest director ever, only I can understand my movies" stupidity very very low.

this movie sucks! It's disgusting for no good reasons. It was just about exotic fantasy from western people's imagination--don't tell me that's post-modern or symbolism. To me, it is just a simple bad movie without soul. Why there are so many movies following Floyd so closely in such a shallow and awkward way? It tries to explain the girl's * and fate by her childhood experience (with the book and her name), trauma (seeing father's affair with the publisher), Electra complex, narcissism, ambiguous SM, and gay/bi-relations...give me a break...it's just so artificial. Plus, the so-called calligraphy on bodies in this movie is really cheesy. You would think the director was so obsessed by the idea of relations between calligraphy and sex that he should at least show the beauty of this unique art. Well, it looks more like graffiti in the movie.

Seems most, if not all, movies today are so formulaic (I can only watch so much Jane Austen: Bridget Jones' Diary, Cold Comfort Farm, others?). A revenge/love story, this picture made me fall in love with Ewan McGregor! Such a skilled actor at such an early age and willing to go to such extremes! Because the acting, camera and editing were so fabulous, this movie could have easily been without words. Ewan's character was so innocent and gullible. The female lead's character was very strong and overpowering. Imagine being in the position of having to protect your father and then seek vengeance on his destroyer. And such a small delicate woman. While there were some awkward moments revealing the immaturity of the female lead and some disgusting circumstances propelling her toward revenge, in all, I have to rate this movie excellent for the editing, camera, story, and high impact acting. It was very moving.

Spoiler warning !!! Nude bodies are not necessarily erotic, not even in the act of having sex. May very well be, but not necessarily. Vivian Wu is exceedingly more erotic, fully clothed, in The Soong Sisters (1997), than in the numerous * scenes in Pillow Book. I use `bizarre' here in a very neutral sense. Most interesting, if only just to myself, is that while watching Pillow Book, I was struck with its similarity with The Cook the Thief, his Wife and her Lover (1989), without realising that they were both directed by the same man, Peter Greenaway. Both are about revenging a lover (and more in the case of Pillow Book) and in both, the dead body of the lover has an important part to play. Very noire, both. The unique thing about Pillow Book is not quite unique. Calligraphy on a human body was featured in Kaidan (1964), albeit under a set of entirely different circumstances. There, to avoid being abducted by a band of ghosts, a monk had magical calligraphy written all over his body to make himself invisible to the ghosts. But alas, through an oversight, his ears were left uncovered, and were eventually torn off and carried away by the ghosts. `The monk without ears' is the best of the four separate short stories in Kaidan, which is in turn among the best of its genre. Without getting into all the intricate details, the main plot of the Pillow Booke surrounds Kagiko's (Vivian Wu) endeavours to get her book published, by sending separate chapters to the publisher, in the form writings on * male bodies. The book is an intimate record of her spiritual and sensual voyage. Of particular importance is the encounter with Jerome (Ewan MeGregor) whom she uses initially as a channel to reach the publisher who is also Jerome's gay lover. When a genuine love relationship develops between Kagiko and Jerome, she finds herself consumed in jealousy as his liaison with the publisher continues. Unable to obtain Kagiko's forgiveness, Jerome kills himself. Then comes the most bizarre part, when the publisher steals Jerome's body from the grave, removes the skin upon which a chapter of Kagiko's book has been written, and makes it into a volume that he keeps as a souvenir. The ensuing revenue, although markedly different in substance, is remarkably similar in spirit to the revenge in `The Cook….'. A lot has been said about the aesthetic quality of this film. What strikes me even more is the sound, particularly in two scenes. One is the long scene that traces the development of the relationship between Kagiko and Jerome, accompanied throughout by a jazzy, languid French song, with the lyrics wandering lazily across the bottom of the screen (not as superimposed sub-titles, but as an integral part of the frame). I thought this is very clever and goes a long way in eliciting the audience's empathy with the pair. The other is Jerome's suicide, accompanied by eccentric, truncated music in pulsating strings, which pinpoints his frustration with surgical precision. Not everything is flawless in this movie. The picture-in-picture technique is way over-used, to the point of being an irritating distraction. As well, the jumpy style in the beginning is too flashy, e.g. the abrupt cut from the stoic black-and-white Japanese domestic scene to the kaleidoscope-like Hong Kong fashion show, accomplishing nothing more than the director saying, `Hey, look here, I can do this!' Fortunately, he has the good sense of stopping when he should. Interesting to observe that the IMDB comments have been as polarised as ever possible. For me, Wu, and McGregor to a less extent (as he is really in a supporting role here), are worth the price of the ticket, or, to be exact, the DVD.

I will give someone $20 if they can explain to me what the hell this movie is about and what it is trying to say and what in God's name is Ewan McGregor doing in it. This movie makes no sense. I am sure it has something to do with art, but it beats the hell out of me what. The movie is about a young Chinese woman named Nagiko, played by Vivian Wu (Joy Luck Club) who has had calligraphy painted on her body since she was a little girl. As she gets older she keeps looking for more calligraphers so she can continue to be painted on and have sex with some of them. She meets Jerome, Ewan McGregor (Star Wars I, II, and III) and she has a thing with him where we get to see his schlong in all of its glory. There is some kind of homo erotic thing with a Japanese editor but don't know why he is there or what his purpose is but hey, whatever. Um, I guess the writer and director, Peter Greenaway, has some reason for putting this book onto film. If you ask me, it's so that he can have Vivian Wu and Ewan McGregor * for most of the film. While that sounds like a good idea, its not. There appears to be no other point to this movie, what do * bodies look like with paint on them and what does it mean? Peter Greenaway has written and directed two of the worst movies ever put on film, The Cook the Thief His Wife & Her Lover, and this movie, all though for different reasons. First, there is no story other than the garbage I have tried to explain. Second, Greenaway edits the film where there is a picture within a picture scene, I guess so he can double the torture that he is giving you. Third, the sound editing is horrible. The beginning of the movie has a Buddhist chant but it is so loud that birds outside my window were collapsing from the pain. Then he goes into the movie and everybody is speaking almost at a whisper. Then he switches scenes and the music is so loud that the human body is forced into the fetal position until the noise stops. I am sure he made his choices for a reason, but to the layman, it doesn't make work. This is just a horrible movie and I am amazed that people look at it and like it. Greenaway should never be allowed to touch film and he in fact should be a canvas, but the paint should be honey and he should have to lie in the middle of a desert with army ants eating him alive for this movie. Never, ever do a movie like this again. Greenaway should be forced to remove elephant dung from every zoo in the world for the next 20 years. *This movie review and others can be seen at www.bbmc.dockratent.com*

The Pillow Book is a rare film that transcends limitations of film and text in a unique handling by auteur Peter Greenaway. Based loosely on the tenth century writings of the imperial court observer, Sei Shonagon, Greenaway brings to the screen a rich visual amalgam that relies on stunning settings, the physical beauty of actors Vivian Wu and Ewan McGregor, and the joy of ancient and modern systems of writing that are the calligraphic arts. Greenaway's penchant for incorporating art, numbers, books, and architecture in a filmic medium ensure those who enjoy his style will not be disappointed. As a young child, Wu's character has celebrated her birthday's by having her father write the story of creation on her face in a family ritual celebration. However, with adulthood and marriage, her spouse is neither interested nor willing to continue her tradition. Frustrated at her inability to find a lover who is a good calligrapher, or a calligrapher who is a good lover, Wu finally meets a bi-sexual translator, Jerome (McGregor) who offers himself to Wu as a living surface for her erotic creativity. Inspired by the opportunity to obtain revenge on the publisher who blackmailed her father and is Jerome's lover, Wu's character, Nagiko creates the ultimate love poem illuminated in red, gold and black characters and delivered to the publisher on the naked body of Jerome. The Pillow Book is adult eroticism at it's most sensuous and visual best. It is a story that revels in the binaries of the profane and grotesque, yet delights the eye with Greenaway's ability to translate a vision of love and horror into a singular statement of lush physical beauty and passionate sexuality.

God, what words to use when trying to describe this film!!! Exotic, erotic??? Those are obvious choices that pop right up. Quite a bit of this film is spoken in Japanese, and I usually hate films with subtitles, yet I loved THE PILLOW BOOK. It is sensual, delicate and beautifully executed. The music is mysterious and sexy. The way it is filmed is pure art, like the unfolding of the pages of the book it's about. Nagiko (Vivian Wu) is trying to publish a book written in caligraphy but is rejected. Looking for someone with perfect skin, she decides to use the method of writing her caligraphy onto human skin the way her father did when she was a girl. There is plenty of naked Ewan McGregor to behold, and he gives a fine...ahem...acting performance also!!! Of course this film won't appeal to just anyone, but if you're in the mood for a visually striking, colorful, cultural piece of art film, try this one out.

I think Greenaway makes very smart films, and I'm really glad he's around. His intellect is always tuned to ideas about the visual, so we get a double measure: his images and his commentary on those same images. You should see this film if you think about communicating by image -- you won't find more beauty and recursive visual depth anywhere else. There are a few flaws in my mind, notable only because the film is so remarkable and because Greenaway shoots so high. A central dance here is the art of the writing (its appearance) and how that relates to the art the writing points to (its semantic meaning). So much elaboration of this works so well that I wonder why Greenaway went to such trouble to make the storyline so comprehensible. It is almost as if he is pandering to critics of his less accessible work. This greatly dilutes the impact for me, takes away from the point that the immediacy and fluidity and directness of the presentation by sense at least trumps the recoil by the mind. Perhaps is wholly substitutes. So why make so much sense? So that people will watch who wouldn't otherwise get it? I wish Greenaway played more with contrasting ritual with spontaneity, especially since the Japan/Hong Kong cultural contrast, the publishing versus modeling contrast (permanent versus faddish), and the promiscuous lovers versus the honored parents all set things up so well. In particular, the soluble temporary nature of the writing turned into permanent tattoos at the end. What of that? It looked decorative only. Her breasts her new pillowbook? If you liked this film, you'll like the book: `Life: a User's Manual' (Perec) which works the same territory but has a better sense of how to come to an end. The hero spends a decade traveling to paint watercolors. These are turned into jigsaw puzzles which he spends a decade reassembling, rebinding the paper, and bleaching out the image. Each puzzle reflects on a story associated with a room or person in the Paris apartment building he has maintained and populated with unwitting tenants.

I could only sit through about 1/2 an hour of this nauseatingly gruesome, so-called "erotic" tale. Although well acted, it's a little too disturbing for my tastes. I'll stick with some of Ewan MacGregor's lighter material, like "Emma" and even the new Star Wars trilogy.

Like many of Peter Greenaway's movies, Pillow Book features extensive nudity. However, while the plot development is well worked out, the cast is competent, and Greenaway shows off a dazzling array of cinematic techniques, he always seems to approach his material too intellectually to really engage the viewer's emotions. I cannot know his intentions, but my impression is that he regards his scripts as more akin to a complex mathematical puzzle to be worked out than a story about real people with human feelings, leaving the movie worth watching but curiously cool and clinical rather than passionately erotic.