By
Joseph Luster
Patrick
Macias is a true lover of Asian cinema, just like
you and me. But the hitch is, this lucky Samurai Journalist
gets paid for it! With an enviable history as a contributor
to PULP, assistant editor of Animerica, and author
of the untouchable tome of Japanese cult cinema TokyoScope
among other published works, this is the job you want.
He's living the KFC life, eating cold pizza and watching
movies and I recently had the chance to shoot some
questions in his general direction. So take notes
while you're reading this, you might learn something.
[Joseph
Luster]: Okay, first off, the question
that all of us aspiring Samurai Journalists are dying
to know. What got you started writing about Asian
Cinema and culture and how did you manage to end up
getting paid for it?
[Patrick
Macias]: I don't want to make it sound
like I was some sort of big-brained prodigy or something,
because with all that junk food and TV I surely wasn't,
but somehow it wound up that I became a professional
published writer at 19. I started by penning youth
perspectives for major newspapers, this being way
back when stuff like Mortal Kombat, Kurt Cobain and
Lollapalooza *really* mattered and concerned parents
needed explanations. Anyway, as a lifelong movie and
Asian film nut, I had long since read and re-read
magazines like Famous Monsters, Starlog, as well as
grand old zines like The Japanese Fantasy Film Journal
and Japanese Giants until they crumbled in my hands.
Writing obsessively about movies and doing interviews
with people who made them was always something I really
wanted to do (that Cobain was dead and no one was
playing Mortal Kombat anymore had nothing to do with
it). I started bugging people at Video Watchdog and
Asian Cult Cinema, then Asian Trash Cinema, to let
me do some stuff and they graciously conceded.
On
the basis of these clips, I was eventually contacted
by an editor over at the San Francisco Bay Guardian
named Alvin Lu (who later wound up editing TokyoScope
as well as Pulp in its prime), to cover the Hong Kong
movies that were then playing in Chinatown. The resulting
"Tiger on Beat" column was probably where
and when I learned most of the power chords and dirty
tricks later to be employed in TokyoScope. By this
point I had also bullied myself into a part-time position
at Viz where I contributed to Pulp and am now the
assistant editor of Animerica magazine. Most of this
admittedly not-very fascinating tale has been recounted
in excruciating detail in Japan Edge - The Insider's
Guide to Japanese Pop Subculture which was the first
book project I was attached to. But little explains
why I've wound up devoting most of my professional
life to covering Asian cinema and culture. The simple
answers are that this stuff has been around me since
as long as I can remember, writing about it comes
naturally, and a lot of very nice people have given
me the support to do it over the years.
[Joseph]:
Speaking of your previous work, let's talk about PULP
for instance. I think, personally, that PULP has made
some of the best progress as far as introducing various
aspects of Asian cinema and culture to a wider margin
goes. Everything about PULP was completely radical
in design, it was a lot more than Manga. What are
your thoughts (post-mortem) about the magazine's impact
and it's untimely demise?
[Patrick]:
Pulp was originally conceived by Viz to be an adult-orientated
Japanese manga magazine with only a few pages devoted
to music, movies, and whatnot. It was doing fair to
middling in this format and was basically fulfilling
its biological imperative as a generator of graphic
novels, but it seemed like the potential for something
far greater was always waiting to be released like
the proverbial Kraken.
When
affable Alvin Lu took over the reigns as the Editor-In-Chief
with issue Vol. 4, No 7 in 2000 it was agreed that
the time had finally arrived to aggressively pump
up the film coverage and to do big features on non-manga
topics. We were basically writing about whatever our
obsessions happened to be at that time be they Pink
Lady or Bollywood star Rajni Kanth. Call this approach
myopic or selfish but at least we never had to resort
to putting race queens on the cover or to "reviewing"
nasty tasting instant ramen to attract new readers
or to get some modicum of respect. Unfortunately,
the odds had been stacked against our little clubhouse
from the get-go. Saddled with an absurdly stupid name,
Pulp never really got out of the backwards comic book
distribution system that it began life in. As we became
less of a "Manga Magazine" and more of a
"God Knows What" the readership began to
mutate. There were people who were buying it only
for the articles and skipping the comics altogether
as well as plenty of old-timers doing quite the opposite.
Meanwhile,
the accounting department was constantly putting on
monster masks and spoiling the slumber party. Producing
this darned thing didn't come cheap and it was really
only a matter of time until the reaper finally swung
the scythe in our general direction. If there was
a Pulp post-mortem, rest assured that "lack of
sales," rather than something really lame like
"burnout" would most certainly be listed
as the cause of death. But the beat goes on. Graphic
novels of the stories began in Pulp continue to be
published. The Pulp staff is now investing in cool
projects like Collector File, Osamu Tezuka's Phoenix,
and Junko Mizuno's Cinderalla. But the fun monthly
show-and-tell thing is over. No mincing words. We
miss it. And it warms our hearts somewhat to hear
that others miss it also. All are advised to read
the book Fresh Pulp, a classically hard-to-define
collection of errata and flotsam from the mags first
Golden Age.
[Joseph]:
Yeah, I could see a lot of the original readers that
came to Pulp for the manga being turned off by all
of the unfamiliar ramblings going on, but that was
the beauty of it. Do you think it's conceivable, after
Pulp is resting in piece, to bust out a full-fledged
Asian cinema magazine, or do you consider it more
of a pipe dream? It seems the audience is growing,
but it might never be enough.
[Patrick]:
I passed on your question on directly to Affable Al
himself (who sits directly next to me) and here's
what he had to say: "Realistically, the answer
is no. I don't think an Asian film magazine would
have a rat's ass of a chance on newsstands right now,
and since there are all these great web sites like
Kung Fu Cult Cinema out there why would we even need
one now?" I'm inclined to agree with him, but
I also like the rich, dreamy flavor of what's in the
pipe as well.
[Joseph]:
I realize you had been published before in Japan Edge,
as far as books go, but TokyoScope is in a totally
different ballpark. What ultimately gave you the idea
to decide and write a book on Japanese Cinema and
how long did it take you? Also, what were some of
the greatest obstacles you faced in getting it out
there?
[Patrick]:
The idea for a book on Japanese cinema came down directly
from the top brass at Viz. I guess they liked the
stuff I had done for Japan Edge and it could have
been that they now wanted something that book stores
might be able to classify for a change. Whereas the
average B movie written about in TokyoScope took a
mere month to 40 days to make, the book itself took
a full two years to produce. I spent about 12 months
on research, film watching, and shameless procrastination
before I finally got into a groove. TokyoScope was
originally supposed to come out in late 2000. Lazy
bum that I am, I was nearly a full year late on delivering
a manuscript. But all that futzing around wound up
paying off rather nicely. Had I delivered on time,
the odds are we never would have gotten Kinji Fukasaku,
Takashi Miike, and even illustrator Happy Ujihashi
and the spirit of the Showakan theater to come on
board. We would have had a very different, and I think
much duller work had things not come together the
way they did.
During
those fateful 365 days Battle Royale came out and
caused international histrionics, Miike's and Kiyoshi
Kurosawa's stuff was embraced by the festival circuit,
and Image Entertainment was releasing stuff like Female
Prisoner Scorpion and the Koji Wakamatsu movies on
US DVD. Some kind of larger wave for Japanese film
was rolling in and TokyoScope was lucky enough to
be one of the first looters on the scene to pilfer
through the wreckage. As far as agonizing tales of
hardship go, realistically there aren't any (although
editor Alvin and designer Izumi Evers may have an
entirely different perspective what with me changing
the page count and line up almost daily). It was more
of an endorphin rush than anything else to be able
to just sit there and write about Sonny Chiba poking
someone's eyes out or to pick out the ad mats and
slapping together the yakuza chapter, which I tend
to think is the book's best argument for existence.
I was probably a complete stressed-out train wreck
at the time, but the memory of pounding it out is
already hopelessly rosy and romanticized. Well, Ok,
putting together the index was kind of a headache.
But even that was sort of counteracted by the insane
cast of characters contained within.
 |
[Joseph]:
I really got a huge kick out of reading Takashi Miike's
afterword. It managed to sound both friendly and self-promotional
at the same time. Did you meet Miike prior to or during
the production of TokyoScope? As Miike's movies manage
to garner more and more acclaim throughout the U.S.
and basically everywhere else, are there any new Japanese
renegade film-makers you think people should watch
for? I'm still waiting for Higuchinsky to make more
films myself.
[Patrick]:
Yeah, the Miike afterword is a real piece of work,
isn't it? It was the last night before we shipped
the book to the printers and we were still waiting
for Miike's promised text to show up. We were just
about to give up and call it a night when this utterly
bizarre and hilarious e-mail showed up. I thought
about cleaning it up a little bit or doing some editing
on it, but finally gave in to the fact that doing
so would be wrong. It appears in the book exactly
as it came in. In addition to his pretty-much peerless
talents as a filmmaker, Miike is amazingly brilliant
and eloquent in conversation. But for some reason
they always stick him with crap English translators
when he goes abroad. If he sometimes seems aloof or
impenetrable when people interview him, a lot of the
blame lies directly at the feet of whomever is doing
his speaking for him. The other factor is that he
tends to answer questions very directly and unless
you really give him something to sink his teeth into,
he's not going to bend over backwards to give you
a juicy response. I figured this out real quick when
I met him at the Rotterdam Film Festival in 2000 and
came back with a boring and totally useless interview.
Next
time we hooked up, it was in September 2001 right
after 9/11, which is a vignette captured in its entirety
in TokyoScope. The mood was pretty bleak but we had
some mutual friends with us (including Tomo Machiyama,
the Hunter S. Thompson of Dai Nippon) who did fantastic
and fluid translation right on the spot. I gave Miike
the now-infamous "belt buckle with the strange.
old white guy snorting cocaine on it" (a memento
from my unspeakably wayward youth) and got the gumption
to ask him to write something for us.
You
know the rest. For so long it was just those same
names and those same films clogging up the arteries.
And as a viewer and a writer, I was in danger of strictly
being a guy doomed to be stuck in the past. It seemed
like nothing was ever going to equal, let alone hope
to top, an old Toei movie like, say, Machine Gun Dragon
or School of the Holy Beast. Then along comes blistering
new stuff like Fudoh, Hard-Boiled, and even last Christmas's
new Godzilla movie. I just hope it keeps coming and
coming. Miike's New Graveyard of Honor and Humanity
has got to be his masterpiece to date, but I get the
feeling he hasn't even peaked yet. In so many ways
this is a fantastic time to be following Japanese
film. Old guys like Kinji Fukasaku and Teruo Ishii
are still proving viable with new works like Battle
Royale and Blind Beast Vs. Dwarf.
But
as far as flaming mad new talent goes, I'm looking
forward to the Ju-on theatrical film by Takashi Shimizu.
If it goes beyond what he did in the V-Cinema version,
we'll all need lots of anti-anxiety medications afterwards.
I'm blanking on the names of the guys who made Zombie
Gokudo, but they certainly know what a real yakuza
movie should be like.
But
the ultimate Japanese movie renegade right now is
this madman named Genta Ogami. He recently swindled
a bunch of people out of their life savings to make
this horrible self-aggrandizing five million dollar
action movie called Blades of the Sun in the Philippines.
Prints and tapes of the film of have been confiscated
and are going to be used as evidence against Ogami
when a criminal investigation is put together. So
there's a new banned Japanese movie for everyone to
try and score. Who could ask for anything more, really?
[Joseph]:
The last thing I need is more movies to shamelessly
search for and blow my cash on. This hobby's tough
on the pocketbook. So now that the book is finally
released and done with, what do you think of it? Anything
you wish you would have put in? How about a TokyoScope
part 2? Any future plans of another book on Japanese
Cinema of some sort?
[Patrick]:
Well, if the response I've gotten from readers is
any indication, I ought to build a time machine and
go back and write chapters on Samurai movies, Beat
Takeshi, and Seijun Suzuki. All three subjects were
certainly considered at one point or another, but
in my heart of hearts, I know that none of them, including
(shock of shocks) Suzuki included, would inspire particularly
passionate writing from me. I'd like to think that
the Shogun Assassin chapter takes care of the big
swords and beheadings, but some people can never get
enough I suppose. There's a nice Kitano book that
came out in UK and it is probably only a matter of
time until someone delivers the coffee table argument
for Suzuki as the new Kurosawa. Looking back on it,
I guess the approach was pretty similar to that of
Pulp in that only stuff that got the blood really
boiling would get written about and make it into print.
As for what the whole thing comes off like nearly
a year later … I like the design, look, and texture
of the book a lot. I wanted it feel as un-American
as possible, to make people think like one of those
previously impenetrable Japanese movie books or magazines
had magically started speaking English and was giving
testimony under oath. I certainly wish there had been
some color pages in there, as well as a bigger page
count, but these crazy dreams proved to be cost-prohibitive.
All
in all, I'm pretty satisfied. The right people and
influences came together at the right time. I was
just the one making the tea and taking notes. What
comes next is kind of up in the air now. The same
folks who green-lit the first book uttered the phrase
TokyoScope 2 even before I did, but nothing is concrete.
There are at least two other proposals that I'm putting
together and shopping around. For the sake of over-dramatics
I'll be secret and silent about them, but will drop
the hint that they both involve Japan and the people
that live there in a big way. I know that no one wants
to hear Mr. TokyoScope rattle on about his literary
pretensions, but I'm also doing research and development
on a novel about a very strange friendship and falling
out between a pair of teenage girls. It is going to
be called "L vs. L" and if all goes well
it will be the psychological equivalent of Godzilla
vs. The Smog Monster. I'd really like to take all
the funky messed-up stuff I love about giant monster
movies, yakuza flicks, and body snatchers from hell
and make terrifying new malformed mutants out of them.
[Joseph]:
You definitely succeeded in the un-American aspect
of the books design. Happy Ujihashi's art gives the
book a very foreign feel, really cool and sloppy in
a stylish way. So to bring everything around full
circle, is there any advice you would give to people
that may be in the position you were around age 19?
Paycheckless writers like myself are no doubt dying
to know. This may be a nice and somewhat cliched final
question to end on, but I gots ta know.
[Patrick]:
Ujihashi draws just the way I like it. Lots of little
things grinning at ya and with plenty of iddy bitties
in there, ala Hieronymus Bosch, to keep you entertained
and slightly baffled until the end of time. He belongs
to that first real generation of otaku who came of
age in the mid-sixties surrounded by movies, manga,
and TV, and I think his work nails the vitality and
zaniness of those times in a way that feels anything
but retro or second hand. We're hoping to some day
put a nice book together made up of just his color
illustrations. Lots of his movie posters and magazine
pieces along with portraits of pro wrestlers.
As
I sit here in my apartment eating leftover pizza,
surrounded by un-labeled CD-Rs, empty paper coffee
cups, and a scary Suze Orman inspirational special
about money on TV, I'd hesitate to try and give anyone
anything resembling advice. My house sure as hell
isn't in order or anything to boast about. If anything,
I think of that anti-smoking 16mm film they showed
you in 6th grade with the guy with the hole in his
throat who says, with the aid of a palm-sized croaking
electronic voice box, "kids, don't be like me."
Which of course, can't stop you one bit from puffing
away once you hit Jr. High … so here goes. Be
aggressive and go after what you want. Try to put
your energy, even a little bit, in a productive place.
All you need is a gob of will power, which is what
too many people (myself included) sorely lack and
stuff will happening. Some leads will go nowhere.
At worst you may end up chasing increasingly familiar
looking shadows over and over, but at least you are
out there and that's probably better than spending
all day playing Wolfenstein (which is what I did right
before doing this interview actually, heh heh).
Too
vague? Ok. Write about what you like. This may even
be better than writing about what you know. My favorite
film writer is Steve Puchalski, who has been doing
Shock Cinema magazine for ages now. He'll review anything
and his mind is wide open. He can smell crap a mile
away, and he can nail exactly where the fault lines
are. But he entertains effortlessly and makes you
laugh the whole time. It feels like just you and him
sitting on a beat-up sofa covered in duct tape sharing
cheap beer and watching some damn movie. He's not
a fake Joe Bob caricature but rather someone who is
real, hilarious, and a joy to read. Also, while I
don't doubt that his movie knowledge is massive, he
never comes off like a big persnickety Know-It-All,
which brings us to … The Ego. Just because you
were the first gaijin to figure out that Kaoru Mabuchi
is actually a pseudonym for Shinichi Sekizawa doesn't
mean you've got the right to claim any kind of ownership,
especially if all you do with this earth shattering
knowledge is spend all day fighting with people on
the internet over it. And any article or review filled
with a bunch of "I, me, mine" first person
blather is always an immense turn off (Yeah, great
advice after doing a long and winding interview, huh?).
Act professional for *uck's sake!
The
odds for a 19 year old seem to be as good, if not
even better, than when I started out bumbling around
Chinatown like the naïve knuckle-head that I
was/am. I sort of snuck in the back door through 'zines
and print and, from my perspective at least, have
merely been obscenely lucky all the way since. Web
journalism, even Asian movie web journalism, seems
to be popping out plenty of talent. The Midnight Eye
guys are putting out a book on Miike later this year.
Some of the best writers for Animerica, like Mark
Simmons and Egan Loo for example, long maintained
amazing web sites about their pet obsessions, which
tends to give their stuff an actual perspective and
a voice instead of just being a shopping list for
a bunch of fact checkers. I know you KFC guys will
do great things. Heck, you are already.
And,
oh yeah. Try and find a copy of Yukio Noda's original
Zero Woman movie from 1974, worship Tetsuro Tanba
like the godhead that he is, and get up and dance
during "the Great Go-Go Marathon" scene
in Godzilla Vs. the Sea Monster.
Patrick
Macias
