Crazed Fruit (狂った果実)

I recently watched Crazed Fruit, a 1956 film from Japan directed by Ko Nakahira. Think Rebel Without A Cause, but with water skiing, skimpy bathing suits, and bad, bad attitudes.

A hothouse drama about wayward Japanese youth, Crazed Fruit concerns two brothers spending a summer at the beach and competing for the same girl - with tragic consequences. As reviewer Michael Buening (allmovie.com) notes, the film...

"...helped establish a post-World War II cultural template of first-world pampered, aimless, casually self-destructive youth - where the young women dangle their sexuality like a plaything and the boys store up puberty-driven reserves of testosterone until they explode with frustrated violence."

Like other classic youth films, Crazed Fruit caused outrage and hysteria among Japanese housewives, teachers, and politicians. The film may seem relatively tame by today's standards, but the finale still packs a dramatic punch. Crazed Fruit remains notable (and watchable) for its sharp cinemtography, its depiction of affluent Japanese youth just ten years after the war, a haunting jazzy-Hawaiian-esque score, and for being the break-out role for Ishihara Yujiro - as a long-legged bad boy in trunks.

Hosono Haruomi - Tropical Dandy

The cover painting sets the mood. Palm trees, an ocean liner, a glowing red sunset, with a tanned Harry peering out through a life preserver, looking every inch a tropical dandy in white suit and Hawaiian shirt. Yes, its Hosono Haruomi's 1975 classic album, Tropical Dandy.

The music varies between mid-tempo pop with stuttering rhythms to warm-beachy-evening ballads. Occasional lapping waves and bird calls add to the exotica feel. But it's definitely faux-tropicana-meets-Asia, with references to Peking ducks, old silk roads, and Yokohama's China town, and ironic sprinklings of Japanesque/Asiatic musical cliches.

The album kicks off with a cover of Carmen Miranda’s version of “Chattanooga Choo-Choo”, from the 1942 film Springtime in the Rockies. It hops and pops along at break-neck pace, blurring boundaries along the way. A one-time Americana big-band swing classic, it's performed in a samba-esque style with occasional boogie-woogie piano asides, and sung in Japanese-accented Portuguese. Guaranteed to make you smile, or at least to ask 'Whaaat!?'

For me, the highlight is “Hurricane Dorothy”, which begins with a slouching, squelching whup-whup-whup bassline. Harry then compares his love to the Caribbean winds ('kimi no hitomi wa, Caribou no kaze…”), supported by a soaring female backing vocals and loungey piano flourishes (those glissandos!). The slightly rum-slurred chorus rhymes ‘bolero’ with ‘odoru’ (dance), mingled with ‘la-la lu-la'. Take a sip, and then repeat.

The rest of side one is consistently strong, whereas side two lazily reworks a couple of instrumental versions of earlier tracks. Harry's rum-soaked drowsy vocals may take some getting used to, but he mixes some strong songs with kitschy, escapist fantasies and comes up with an enjoyable and original album. Right then, back to the marimbas!

The Crocodiles - Tears

I've been listening to a great LP by the Crocodiles, a kiwi pop group that recorded a couple of albums circa 1979-81. Portrayed by John Dix in Stranded in Paradise as part of the old wave striking back against the punk revolution, the Crocs were experienced pros with technical skill and ideas to burn. The line-up included graphic artist Fane Flaws on vocals and guitar and actor Bruno Lawrence as drummer. Their debut album Tears (1980) still sparkles with pop-gem ideas and biting wit, such as Flaws' opening track, "New Wave Goodbye"

New Wave Goodbye - I heard you were coming and now you've arrived
I've seen you before, but I did not recognise you in that see-thru disguise...
We'll get a new band, now lemme see... how 'bout the Crocodiles?
Roll out the limousines, we'll stack the bucks in piles

Jenny Morris, who went on to a  career as a solo artist in Australia, shines on lead vocal on a few cuts - including their enduring hit, the doo-wop-y piano ballad "Tears".

You said you were an agency for paradise (ooh-wah)
I went along - it slipped my mind to check the price
Tears... I feel them on my cheeks
Tears... I've been this way for weeks

Guitarist Tony Backhouse leads a great group vocal effort on the jazzy "Its the Latest", which comments amusingly on the fickle nature of the music industry.

Here's another melody we stole from the Beatles...
I forget which song
If you recognise it, you don't win any prizes
You been around too long

I don't think this album has been re-released on CD but it deserves to be remembered and replayed. It mixes classic pop with new wave guitar edge and touches of doo-wop irony. There's hardly a dud track here. Here's to the Crocodiles!

Fly TEAL

Tasman Empire Airways Limited (TEAL) comissioned Auckland artist Arthur Thompson to create a series of "Fly TEAL" posters promoting it's Pacific destinations in the 1950s. These included stops on TEAL's famous Coral Route, such as Fiji, Samoa and Tahiti, as well as New Zealand, Australia, and Norfolk Island. Below is a selection of my favourite images.

I like the use of colour and the simple graphics. Somehow each poster seems playful and slightly mysterious. Of course, they play to 1950s perceptions of the 'exotic other' that wealthy air travellers might have imagined could be found at each destination.

The Coral Route

The weather has been bad lately. This week I watched a rare snowfall from my office window. We may be on a little island in the south Pacific, but the winters are cold. Despite the consolations of winter - such as warmed sake and clear mornings with snow covered hills - the mind turns to warmer times and places across the Pacific.

I was reading about the 'Coral Route' run by TEAL, a forerunner of Air New Zealand. From 1951 to 1960, their Solent 'flying boats' skipped across the south Pacific, from Auckland to Fiji (Suva), to Samoa (Apia), to Aitutaki to Bora Bora in Tahiti and back again on a fortnightly run. How romantic is that! Island hopping and landing on a lagoon inside the reef, with the plane swaying with the waves. I imagine stopping for a swim in the warm waters at Aitukaki while the plane refuels nearby. No immigration or customs. Back on board, a full service awaits with drinks before dinner while the captain sets course for Bora Bora and another day in the warmth of the sun.

Yu-chan's Holiday in Hawaii

In 1967 Ishihara Yujiro (石原 裕次郎), Japan's premier male film star and enka singer, went to Hawaii to record an album, Holiday in Hawaii (裕ちゃんのホリデイ・イン・ハワイ). The cover features Yu-chan by the beach at Waikiki with a winsome local lady. Clear blue skies and coconut palms, lei necklace and ukulele, and... Hawaii!! An image of international jet-setting sophistication for aspiring and newly wealthy Japanese audiences back home.

The opening track, a Japanese language version of "On A Tropic Night" (南国の夜), clips along at a fair pace with bongos, ukulele and some blistering Hawaiian-style steel guitar from "Buckie Shirakata and His Aloha Hawaiians". Ishihara, in a reverbed Elvis-like croon, seems assured with the Japanese lyrics and uptempo rhythm. The album mixes such small group tracks with lusher numbers recorded with syrupy strings, marimba and perfunctory ukulele backing. The material ranges from Hawaiian standards sung in English ("Beyond the Reef" and a credible "Blue Hawaii") and Hawaiian to a reworking of an earlier enka hit "Kurutta Kajitsu" (狂った果実 or Crazed Fruit).

Despite those strings and a sometimes slurred accent, the album's vibe of Hawaii through a Japanese lens is ideal for relaxing on a warm night over a drink. Or play it before bed and drift off to sleep dreaming of some Japanesque Hawaiian holiday in the 1960s. 

The National Library building

I've come to love the solid civic-ness of the National Library building. Perched on a corner on the slope of Molesworth St, its brutalist, cast-concrete looms out in distinctive shape and texture unlike anything else around town. Designed between 1971-75 and opened in 1987, the upper structure comprises angled blocks that interlock around three levels in a subtlely-shifting geometric pattern. The upper levels taper down and in before being undercut by an entrance level that rests on a podium base of charcoal grey textured concrete. From a distance, it reminds me of an inverted pyramid plunged into slab of a granite. A fortress-like treasure house for protecting books and other taonga from the elements.

Plans were afoot in 2008-09 to vandalise the exterior and replace it with sheets of glass, a misguided attempt to modernise in theme-park fashion in the hope of attracting foot traffic. Fortunately, that ill-advised project was rescinded on grounds of excessive cost. It would have been a pointless and expensive mistake. Sadly, the relevant Cabinet paper, released on the Library's website shows that the government was not even advised of the heritage value or architectural merits of this purpose-designed building. Nevertheless, it looks like the scaled-back refurbishment will keep the exterior intact. We'll be able to enjoy this remarkable-looking building for some time to come yet.

Wild River

I went to see Elia Kazan's Wild River (1960) last night as part of the NZ film festival. I'd seen it on the small screen and knew it as a highly-watchable tale about forced land sales along the Tennesee River in the 1930s. Montgomery Clift plays the liberal government man sent to get hard-bitten matriarch Jo Van Fleet off her family's island plantation before its flooded by a new hydro dam. So I couldn't miss the opportunity to see this under-appreciated film on the big screen. The brochure described it succinctly: "Glorious new restoration of a neglected 1960 masterpiece by Elia Kazan (On the Waterfront) with legendary performances by Jo Van Fleet and Lee Remick and Hollywood icon Montgomery Clift".

It looked wonderful on the big screen, the restored print showing the autumnal colours in Cinemascope. The silent raft trip across the river to the mysterious island is captivating, as are the confrontations with Van Fleet who simply won't budge, and the skill of Clift in subtlely mixing some bemused light humour with the drama. It's great to see that Wild River has been re-screened at film festivals around the world. It deserves more recognition, not only for the fine performances of the three leads and the quirky character actors, but for telling an entertaining story that touches on some big themes - the tension between progress and tradition, civil rights in the American South, and fear of committing to a relationship.

The Champagne coupe

I found out recently that those saucer-shaped champagne glasses are known as a champagne coupe. Their shallow, open bowl is accessible and easy to sip from. It's an iconix, luxurious image, from classic Hollywood films to the cascading tower of stacked champagne glasses at weddings. Sadly, the Champagne coupe appears to have faded from the 1960s with the rise of the flute glass. I'm not keen on Champagne flutes, which feel awkward and tend to break easily. That may be why I don't drink much sparkling wine.

Apparently the coupe style of Champagne glass has been undergoing a revival - according to some websites. This may be true, as I've recently been served a classic cocktail in a coupe glass on a couple of occasions. It made a nice change from the traditional v-shaped cocktail glass. In either case, a relatively short stem and broad bowl makes for easy handling. I'd happily sip a martini from a coupe any day.

Monterey

Monterey. The name evokes northern California, Spanish Mission, jazz festivals and a certain kind of pine. It's also a bar and diner in Newtown, Wellington. Its simple horizontal wooden boards stand out on the street frontage, interrupted by just a perspex sign and a bright yellow door. Inside is a relaxed suburban hangout with blue and white mural walls, long-players spinning on a turntable and sets of Connect Four. Newsprint tablecloths and pencils invite patrons to sketch art, some of which ends up blogged on the Monterey webpage. Menus are pasted into the front of old hardcover books. The service is unfailingly warm and friendly.

The other night I had a Martinborough, an original in-house cocktail, described as a twist on the Gimlet. Served in a little old-school saucer-shaped champagne glass (elegant!), the Martinborough has a gin base (40ml), with savignon blanc (30ml), homemade lime cordial (30ml), and a dash of orange bitters. Named after the town in the Wairarapa that produced the wine, its creator told me the Martinborough had been developed for an Air New Zealand competition for a cocktail on flights between Auckland and London. It came second place to a blue-coloured drink(!). Still, Monterey's Martinborough is more than a fancied-up Gimlet, being sweet-n-dry and limey and, well, perfect for high-altitude cruising.

Stray Dog

I recently watched Akira Kurosawa's Stray Dog (野良犬, 1949), a classic film noir set in Tokyo just after the war. Filmed in the sweltering Japanese summer, the heat and humidity pervades every frame, as sweat drips from the characters, slowly adding to the building tensions and frustrations.

The legendary Toshiro Mifune, of Rashomon and Seven Samurai fame, plays a headstrong, yet naive, young detective whose gun is stolen on a crowded bus. As his missing gun starts to be used in crimes, he desperately searches Tokyo's seedy underworld to track down the killer before more murders are committed. AllMovie.com notes that "Mifune, young and hungry, is tightly coiled in Stray Dog, a complicated mass of insecurity and bravado".

Stray Dog has classic noir elements, including shadowy lighting, urban crime, a man trapped in a living nightmare and an increasingly blurred sense of what is right or wrong. More than just a psychological crime thriller, it also contains a nine-minute montage that wordlessly captures post-war Tokyo's crowded streets and alleys, with real-life blackmarket figures, hawkers and drifters. All were filmed surreptitiously by Kurosawa as Mifune wandered the streets in Tokyo's sweltering summer.

The Alchemist

Cocktailtime was an influential column about classic cocktails on the now-defunct HotWired site. Written by Paul Harrington, a.k.a. The Alchemist, with Laura Moorhead, the column helped revive a wider interest in old school aperitif cocktails. It opened my eyes to rare-but-still-mighty classics such as the Aviation, the Pegu and the Ward Eight, while providing amusing descriptions of each drink's origins, cultural baggage, and receipe, along with suggested serving settings.

• The Gibson - "The not-so-evil twin of the dry Martini... the Gibson subtlely brings the salty brine of its garnish to the fore... one onion goes nearly unnoticed until the drink's end, two raises an eyebrow at the first sip."
• The Old Fashioned - "Old-fashioned, yes, but not weak. At some point the drink transforms from a bouquet of cherry and oranges into the brimstone and fire of whiskey... It's frilly but disciplined."
• The Pink Gin - "With all its bourgeoisie baggage, the Pink Gin is the English equivalent of the Yank's Martini. Bold and biting, it takes the banal - gin and bitters - and makes it distinctive."

Although the site has since disappeared from the web, I saved a screen shot of a couple of my favourites - the Sidecar is pasted below. Read this interview with Paul for more. http://www.frodelius.com/goodspiritsnews/paulharrington.html

Classic cocktails

Old school cocktails endure as great drinks. By old school, I mean pre-war. A memorable name helps, but the receipe is everything. Common features include a small number of simple ingredients, a balancing of the sweet by the sour or the bitter (or both), and a base spirit with character. There's no room for vodka here. 

Preparation matters, such as first chilling the glass with ice. I prefer the older style of cocktail glass - smaller with a short stem is easier to handle, not too much to drink, and less time to lose its chill. Any lemon or lime juice should be freshly-squeezed.

Below is a list of my favourites - my 'house' cocktails. Four are gin-based, two use whiskey, and one each in rum and brandy. They're all pre-war in orgin, with the exception of the Jasmine - created by Paul Harrington in the classic style, balancing the sour and the sweet on a spirit base with a hint of something bitter. 

• Aviation - gin, lemon juice, maraschino liqueur
• Daiquiri - rum, lime juice, simple syrup
• Jasmine - gin, lemon juice, Cointreau, Campari
• Manhattan - whiskey, sweet vermouth, bitters
• Martini - gin, dry vermouth
• Pegu - gin, lime juice, Cointreau, Angosturas bitters
• Sidecar - brandy, lemon juice, Cointreau
• Ward Eight - whiskey, lemon juice, orange, grenadine

2046

I re-watched Wong Kar Wai's 2046 last night. I remember waiting for this film. Rumours swirled. It would be set in 1960s Hong Kong, as a companion piece to In the Mood for Love. It would be set in the year 2046 and feature robots. It would star Tony Leung and and feature Maggie Cheung, Gong Li, and Carina Lau, and Faye Wong and Zhang Zi Yi. Chang Chen (Taiwan) and Kimura Takuya (Japan) had roles. I wondered how these leading actors would fit into one film, and how their different languages of Cantonese, Mandarin, and Japanese could fit together.

Somehow, it does contain all those elements and more, as it explores key WKW themes of memory, loss, and reflections on failed romance. For me, the look of 2046 is just stunningly beautiful... combining saturated colours, muted lighting, elegant costumes and sexual desire within tight, enclosed interiors. Intriguingly, 2046 references earlier films in which some characters appear, revealing more about their background and motivations. Also intriguing is the way that scenes between actors who speak different languages are integrated - without much apparent difficulty. That use of language, and the fact that it is set in Hong Kong and Singapore, with characters from Japan and Cambodia (including the mysterious 'black widow' gambler Su Lizhen from Phnom Penh) gives it a pan-Asian quality. 2046 is a complex and often puzzling fim, but one that rewards a repeat viewing.

Ten classic J-pop albums

Japan produces some truly great music. I collected a few classic albums when I lived there a few years ago. Here's a selection below. Many are essential for fans of contemporary Japanese music, or J-pop.

• Holiday In Hawaii (1967) - Ishikawa Yujiro. The big man takes a vacation in Hawaii and sings ukulele-backed numbers in Japanese, English and Hawaiian!
• Tropical Dandy (1975) - Hosono Haruomi. In which Harry takes a cruise, mixing exotica and Asia to create something fresh, loose and full of sly humour. The follow-up cruise, Bon Voyage Co (1976), is equally as good.
• Blood Line (1980) - Kina Shoukichi and Champloose. Superb songs blending Okinawan and modern instrumentation and recorded with energy and real feeling. 
• Back to the Street (1980) - Sano Motoharu. Exciting debut with a strong set of pop-rock songs displaying some new wave attitude and honesty.
• Japaneska (1990) - The Boom. Exuberant and experimental, mixing elements of ska, pop, and traditional Japanese and Okinawan instruments and melodies.
• Bossanova 2001 (1993) - Pizzicato Five. A Shibuya-kei masterpiece that romps through classic pop styles with wit, sweet melodies and restless energy.
• Kodoku no Taiyo (1994) - Kuwata Keisuke. Big personality and strong vocals over a fine set of songs with slick ear-grabbing arrangements.
• Banzai (1996) - Ulfuls. Energetic guitar-based pop with strong songs, playful humour and real heart. The follow-up, Let's Go (1997), sounds equally fresh and strong.
• Fuzaken Ja Ne (1997) - Nagabuchi Tsuyoshi. Passionate set of songs from a gravel-voiced singer-songwriter over varied and often innovative arrangements.
• May and December (2001) - Great 3. Smooth production and sophisticated textures from a power-pop trio using the studio as an instrument. Not a dud track in sight.

My liquor cabinet

I love my liquour cabinet. The front opens out to form a shelf on which to mix a drink. In the same movement, the lid slides up and back to reveal a treasure trove within a mirrored interior. The exterior is mahogany veneer. I'd guess it dates from the early 1960s. I pretend its modernist-inspired, although in reality it has cabriole legs and slightly ornate handles.

What forms the basis of a well-stocked liquor cabinet? Here are a few essentials for preparing classic cocktails and mixed drinks.

• Spirits - a decent gin (e.g. Tanqueray), a white rum, a brandy and a blended whisky.
• Liqueurs - Cointreau is the most useful. I also like maraschino, a clear cherry liqueur that is not too sweet.
• Fortified wines - dry/white vermouth and sweet/red vermouth are essential. I also stock a sherry for drinking neat.
• Bitters - Campari and Angostura bitters are essential. Peychaud's is also a classic. Orange bitters, popular pre-war, are now undergoing a resurgence. 

With access to fresh lemon and lime juices, and plenty of ice on hand, preparing a range of classic drinks is possible. Items such as bitters can last a long time, as only small amounts are used. I like the bottles to appear full, so where possible, I top them up from refills kept in the little cupboard under the main compartment. I probably get as much enjoyment from stocking the cabinet as I do from preparing and consuming drinks.

Time to freshen up before dinner. Aperitif, anyone?

House bar, Hotel DeBrett

While in Auckland recently, I stopped for drink at the retro-styled Hotel DeBrett. The house bar, known as "Housebar", is an elegant den hidden away on the first floor. From the art deco ceiling, to the wood pannelling and 60s-style chairs, it felt like a place where Don Draper might order a whiskey Old Fashioned. It also opens onto an enclosed courtyard. The staff were friendly too. 

I'll be back for that Old Fashioned.

Speedo do

Wild life in the Pacific can contain flashes of brillant colour. The flutter of bright feathers. Hibiscus flowers. Schools of iridescent fish in the lagoon. There are also signs of a re-emergence of that most rare and exotic creature, the lesser-spotted speedo boy.

During a recent stay in Fiji, at the Octopus Resort on the island of Waya, a pair of speedos came to roost next to my bure, boldly sunning themselves on the beach. Their sleek form and confidence was inspiring. Previously thought to be endangered, perhaps this signals a return to their natural habitat.

Fiji me

Fiji is its own galaxy of islands. Flying into Nadi on the main island of Viti Levu, its straightforward to 'island hop' out west through the Mamanuca Group and then up into Yasawa chain in the northwest. Coming to rest at the Octopus Resort on the island of Waya, we took a thatched bure right on the shore with a little veranda in front and, at the rear, a shower open to the sky.

It was all golden sands, tropical fruit cocktails, and snorkelling in warm, clear waters. Schools of coloured fish swam among a bewitching coral wonderland of spiky bright blues and purples, and lilly pad-like discs in green and yellow. We were also joined by an old friend, Captain Morgan - a pirate chief and distiller of a fine spiced golden rum. At night, half-asleep under a mosquito net, the sound of the waves lapping on the shore felt close enough as to be virtually on the door step.

Fiji, definitely the way the world should be.

Groovy is my name

Pizzicato Five were not only Tokyo's coolest combo, but one of the more elegant and style-conscious pop acts anywhere. Their image and music mixed a retro jet-age lounge aesthetic with elements of 1960s French spy-chic, pop art, and a playful tongue-in-cheek wit. The title of this blog is lifted from a Pizzicato Five album - themselves great borrowers of shiny things - and so they're a fitting topic for the first proper entry. But all this carefree style was underpinned by consistently great songs. Their song titles, usually only a loose translation, conveyed a real sense of the spirit of P5.

• Groovy Is My Name
• Let's Be Adult
• Tokyo, Mon Amour
• The Night Is Still Young
• Sophisticated Catchy
• The Audrey Hepburn Complex
• Twiggy vs. James Bond
• Non-Stop to Tokyo

After a string of great albums, such as Bossanova 2001 (1993) and Happy End of the World (1997), Pizzicato Five jetted off into the sunset. But they're certainly not forgotten by the legions of Pizzicato-maniacs. P5, I raise my glass of warmed sake to you.

A new stereophonic sound spectacular...

Welcome to my blog - broadcasting to the world from an island in the South Pacific. I'm hoping it'll be like an online pillow book of interesting things, passing whims and enduring fantasies. It'll likely cover classic films, the South Pacific, tiki-ness, anything Japan-esque, Pizzicato Five albums, modernist delights, jet travel, and old-school cocktails. Oh, and obsessive list making.