kumakiri-san @ the s.f. indie fest
Kumakiri Kazuyoshi Meets The Devil Dolls in San Francisco
By
Michael Skurko
Kichiku Dai Enkai (Banquet of The Beasts). I was told this first film by Kumakiri Kazuyoshi is “one of the most violent films ever.” Took some time hunting down a copy in San Francisco. I bought the DVD. So now after seeing his film Antenna at The 7th San Francisco Independent Film Festival I am fired up. Such a sweet guy. After seeing Antenna I’d have thought he was a monster. You’d think he was a butcher. Deeply demented? Insane? Nope. He’s a really cool guy. So? He’s staying at my house and I’ve been having a great time showing him the non-tourist attractions of San Francisco
Kumakiri-san is a young director who’s currently living in Tokyo and was able to join us for this year’s Indie Fest as the shooting for his most recent film wrapped the day before his flight. I live in Bernal Heights, which is a bit of a haul from the Roxie Theater in The Mission and was wondering if I should have rented a car for the duration of the festival to ferry him around. We started talking about Japan and then about motorcycles. Turns out he used to have a bike. Hmm… “Do you mind riding on the back of my bike?” “That would be great!!” So much for the normal views and tourist attractions. We got on the bike and bombed up the winding road to Twin Peaks. Never been to San Francisco before? Oh, this is going to be a blast! A clear day mid week atop the hills looking out to the postcard views. The Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, the towering buildings of the Financial District... We sat on the stone wall, consuming the view. Kumakiri-san had a smoke and looked out into the distance, taking it all in. Back on the bike and then slicing down the winding road and into The Haight. Hippies, punkers, wastrels and tourists packing the streets and milling about. Any chance we could find a place that sells DVDs? Sure. Amoeba Records. They have an extensive Japanese film section and in about five minutes he came up with a copy of Kichiku Dai Enkai. Funny, I tried to find it with the help of a staff member who swore it was not there. My guess is he was looking for it under the English title of “Banquet of the Beasts.” Ah, well. Back on the street and window shopping as we head back to the bike. Helmets on, and back on the bike. The bike growls along in low gears as we rolls past Buena Vista Park and down the hill towards The Lower Haight. Park the bike and order sausages at Rosamunde and then into The Toronado for pints of ‘Racer 5.’ They have unbelievable food in Japan, but there is nothing there to compete in the sausage and fresh beer arena.
The daily ritual is that we get up late and have a coffee in the house. By the time we’re up and active my cats have already gone back to sleep. Late night festival parties have taken a toll. A continually changing cast of Film Festival characters has rolled through my house. For a grass roots independent film festival my house has taken on a United Nations flavor. Thus far a Russian, a Canadian and now a Japanese film director have stayed with me. Never a dull moment. We see some films at the Roxie or The Woman’s Building. At this point we are now taking the motorcycle everywhere. Easy parking and a chance to hit China Town, North Beach, The Haight, The Mission and beyond all in a single day with no worries about parking. Perfect. We sample all the local fare. Dinner at Limon, Taqueria Cancun, Yum Yum Chinese, Rosamunde Sausages, Yo Yo Sushi… San Francisco is an awesome place to eat. It is a food destination. It is also a film destination. A fine combo.
The Parties? Too many to mention? Perhaps. There are film festival parties each night of the festival. A chance for the film fans to meet with the directors and some of the actors. A chance for these guests of San Francisco to kick back and have a blast. The Roxie is located in the midst of The Mission District. Delirium is a bar just around the corner and has become the standard bar for post film pints. The ticket stub from the Indie Fest gets you a free Sierra Nevada. Admission to a film, a free beer and a chance to chat with a film maker? Life does not get better.
So, last night Kumakiri-san and I decide to head off to a party a ways from the comfort of the Mission. I’d been told about a ‘Devil Dolls’ biker party at The Parkside on 1600 17th st. Perfect. This should give him an excellent chance to see some of the ‘real’ America that is so far off the beaten tourist tract that I think I will make biker history by bringing a legitimate tourist to a biker bash. We pull up to the bar and there’s some mayhem in the streets. Hundreds of Harleys and there’s some kind of skirmish going on just down the road. A hulking Hells Angel standing next to Kumakiri-san and I smiles. “Finally some action.” There’s at least five different motorcycle clubs in attendance for this Devil Dolls event. Perfect. He’s going to love this. We walk into the bar and a wall of wailing music splits into our skulls. Hard hitting, head banging tunes. Unreal. The Rumblers SF are up front, head banging and loving it. The scene is charged and though we clearly stick out no one gives us any bad vibes. Up to the bar and run into Jennifer from The Toronado. She’s always been a fan of biker parties. Kumakiri-san and I are surrounded by the real deal. Motorcycle Clubs. Outlaws, and hard core motorcyclists. There are skulls and boots. Black leather and tattoos. Neck tattoos on some of the guys… A few girls with beautiful tattoos running down from their skirts to their ankles. A sight to behold. We stay for the full set and then stagger outside with ears still ringing. I see a couple of Devil Dolls. I introduce them to Kumakiri-san and explain that he’s here from Japan for The San Francisco Independent Film Festival and he’s come out tonight for a look at the ‘real’ America. I tell them about his films and suggest they join us at the 4:40pm screening the next day at the Roxie. They gave us stickers that say “worship your local devil dolls.” Smiles all around.
A great scene. We say good night and move over to the bikes. I hear one The Devil Dolls say “he is so cute.” Surrounded by bearded giants on American steel we are the little people and Kumakiri is in fact, a cute little man from Japan. I hope these Devil Dolls join us for the screening of Antenna on Sunday. Yes, he’s a sweet heart and he’s a little cutie, but his films are the deepest and darkest you could ever hope to see. All the skin heads in mosh pits and tattooed necks with that quiet and understood violence of the night? Kumakiri wears his darkness within. See his films you’ll understand the horror that lies beneath the surface.
By
Michael Skurko
Kichiku Dai Enkai (Banquet of The Beasts). I was told this first film by Kumakiri Kazuyoshi is “one of the most violent films ever.” Took some time hunting down a copy in San Francisco. I bought the DVD. So now after seeing his film Antenna at The 7th San Francisco Independent Film Festival I am fired up. Such a sweet guy. After seeing Antenna I’d have thought he was a monster. You’d think he was a butcher. Deeply demented? Insane? Nope. He’s a really cool guy. So? He’s staying at my house and I’ve been having a great time showing him the non-tourist attractions of San Francisco
Kumakiri-san is a young director who’s currently living in Tokyo and was able to join us for this year’s Indie Fest as the shooting for his most recent film wrapped the day before his flight. I live in Bernal Heights, which is a bit of a haul from the Roxie Theater in The Mission and was wondering if I should have rented a car for the duration of the festival to ferry him around. We started talking about Japan and then about motorcycles. Turns out he used to have a bike. Hmm… “Do you mind riding on the back of my bike?” “That would be great!!” So much for the normal views and tourist attractions. We got on the bike and bombed up the winding road to Twin Peaks. Never been to San Francisco before? Oh, this is going to be a blast! A clear day mid week atop the hills looking out to the postcard views. The Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, the towering buildings of the Financial District... We sat on the stone wall, consuming the view. Kumakiri-san had a smoke and looked out into the distance, taking it all in. Back on the bike and then slicing down the winding road and into The Haight. Hippies, punkers, wastrels and tourists packing the streets and milling about. Any chance we could find a place that sells DVDs? Sure. Amoeba Records. They have an extensive Japanese film section and in about five minutes he came up with a copy of Kichiku Dai Enkai. Funny, I tried to find it with the help of a staff member who swore it was not there. My guess is he was looking for it under the English title of “Banquet of the Beasts.” Ah, well. Back on the street and window shopping as we head back to the bike. Helmets on, and back on the bike. The bike growls along in low gears as we rolls past Buena Vista Park and down the hill towards The Lower Haight. Park the bike and order sausages at Rosamunde and then into The Toronado for pints of ‘Racer 5.’ They have unbelievable food in Japan, but there is nothing there to compete in the sausage and fresh beer arena.
The daily ritual is that we get up late and have a coffee in the house. By the time we’re up and active my cats have already gone back to sleep. Late night festival parties have taken a toll. A continually changing cast of Film Festival characters has rolled through my house. For a grass roots independent film festival my house has taken on a United Nations flavor. Thus far a Russian, a Canadian and now a Japanese film director have stayed with me. Never a dull moment. We see some films at the Roxie or The Woman’s Building. At this point we are now taking the motorcycle everywhere. Easy parking and a chance to hit China Town, North Beach, The Haight, The Mission and beyond all in a single day with no worries about parking. Perfect. We sample all the local fare. Dinner at Limon, Taqueria Cancun, Yum Yum Chinese, Rosamunde Sausages, Yo Yo Sushi… San Francisco is an awesome place to eat. It is a food destination. It is also a film destination. A fine combo.
The Parties? Too many to mention? Perhaps. There are film festival parties each night of the festival. A chance for the film fans to meet with the directors and some of the actors. A chance for these guests of San Francisco to kick back and have a blast. The Roxie is located in the midst of The Mission District. Delirium is a bar just around the corner and has become the standard bar for post film pints. The ticket stub from the Indie Fest gets you a free Sierra Nevada. Admission to a film, a free beer and a chance to chat with a film maker? Life does not get better.
So, last night Kumakiri-san and I decide to head off to a party a ways from the comfort of the Mission. I’d been told about a ‘Devil Dolls’ biker party at The Parkside on 1600 17th st. Perfect. This should give him an excellent chance to see some of the ‘real’ America that is so far off the beaten tourist tract that I think I will make biker history by bringing a legitimate tourist to a biker bash. We pull up to the bar and there’s some mayhem in the streets. Hundreds of Harleys and there’s some kind of skirmish going on just down the road. A hulking Hells Angel standing next to Kumakiri-san and I smiles. “Finally some action.” There’s at least five different motorcycle clubs in attendance for this Devil Dolls event. Perfect. He’s going to love this. We walk into the bar and a wall of wailing music splits into our skulls. Hard hitting, head banging tunes. Unreal. The Rumblers SF are up front, head banging and loving it. The scene is charged and though we clearly stick out no one gives us any bad vibes. Up to the bar and run into Jennifer from The Toronado. She’s always been a fan of biker parties. Kumakiri-san and I are surrounded by the real deal. Motorcycle Clubs. Outlaws, and hard core motorcyclists. There are skulls and boots. Black leather and tattoos. Neck tattoos on some of the guys… A few girls with beautiful tattoos running down from their skirts to their ankles. A sight to behold. We stay for the full set and then stagger outside with ears still ringing. I see a couple of Devil Dolls. I introduce them to Kumakiri-san and explain that he’s here from Japan for The San Francisco Independent Film Festival and he’s come out tonight for a look at the ‘real’ America. I tell them about his films and suggest they join us at the 4:40pm screening the next day at the Roxie. They gave us stickers that say “worship your local devil dolls.” Smiles all around.
A great scene. We say good night and move over to the bikes. I hear one The Devil Dolls say “he is so cute.” Surrounded by bearded giants on American steel we are the little people and Kumakiri is in fact, a cute little man from Japan. I hope these Devil Dolls join us for the screening of Antenna on Sunday. Yes, he’s a sweet heart and he’s a little cutie, but his films are the deepest and darkest you could ever hope to see. All the skin heads in mosh pits and tattooed necks with that quiet and understood violence of the night? Kumakiri wears his darkness within. See his films you’ll understand the horror that lies beneath the surface.
posted by skurko at 5:43 AM
1 Comments:
Did you publish this one somewhere else? I'm having Deja Vu..
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