TIM WONG plunged headfirst into the world of import DVD in pursuit of the most elusive cold-cuts from the East – and surfaced with a hefty credit card bill, among other things.


PICTURE THIS: you've just had the pleasure of attending a sold out screening of Takashi Miike's Happiness of the Katakuris, which is now, by all accounts, one of your top 10 live cinematic experiences of all-time. You revel in the complete and utter arbitrariness of what you've just witnessed, and want more, more, more of this nonsensical madness from Japan's premiere misfit de cinema. Indeed, you've already got your pass to the other hottest ticket in town, Miike-san's Visitor Q. But wait – here come the culture Nazis, and before you can say Mein Kampf, they've crashed the party, spoilt your fun, and left a film in limbo that may never see the light of a projector again.

Plan B. Dialing up "Miike" on the ubiquitous IMDB.com produces a list of no less than 60 entries as a director (beginning only in 1991), at least a third of which are available on various home video formats to the discerning viewer. Having just lost your Miike virginity, stumbling upon gold like this is something of a film buff's wet dream – even if they do remain agonisingly out of reach. Yet, whether it's those lovely people at the SPCS, local film distribution or just sheer obscurity that's preventing us from seeing these films, there is actually hope for all us malnourished cinephiles after all. Now, if only we could work out how to get these movies.

Not to sound suspicious, but it's easier than you might think. Lumière, of course, does not endorse the parallel importation of DVDs and videos into the country per se; after all, we don't want to upset the local film distributors, honest movie houses and the regime of the DVD region coding system. Certainly, we don't condone the trade of bootleg movies, pirated DVDs or the underhanded practice of downloading entire movies off the Internet. However, for the sake of sanity, Lumière encourages individuals to import the latest and greatest film obscurities from around the world for their own private, home use. It is, somewhat begrudgingly, the only way to access many of these foreign delights.


Ideally, the humble theatre needs to be, first and foremost, the place to view these films, yet New Zealand is no New York; we're without a Film Forum; we lack genuine cinematheques; when all else fails, we don't have the equivalent of an Aro Street Video in every town and city. Largely, we remain geographically isolated from the cultural centers of the world. We can blame Maui or tectonic plate movement for this; nevertheless, we are stuck in our corner of the planet, and have been coping understandably well as a band of outsiders for the better part of our brief history. The modest but ever expanding calendar of international film festivals in this country or Peter Jackson's bringing of the movie world to us is, but a welcome reminder of this.

By admission though, our seclusion has always placed us on the back foot. New Zealand artists were slow to develop, oblivious to the European trends of the early 20th century. In a similar vein, our limited but maturing – even somewhat pubescent – history of filmmaking could be considered, dare I say, conservative by world trends and standards. And while Hollywood is obliging when it comes to their latest extravaganza hot off the assembly line, it's the films that really matter – the new David Lynch film, Matthew Barney's Cremaster Cycle or something-anything by Kiyoshi Kurosawa – that take an eternity to, even sometimes never, get the local screening, distribution or video release that they deserve.

One can continue to think wishfully, even though a film like Takeshi Kitano's Dolls is at once simultaneously competing for a limited spot on a limited number of festival programmes, and is desperately trying to compensate for its almost complete lack of marketability. New Zealanders love their movies, and besides the persistence of multi-plex fare, festival attendances would tell us that there has always been an audience for a more progressive, complex, simply more interesting form of filmmaking. Yet, until we get our MOMA or Film Society of Lincoln Center, there is, thankfully, an alternative.

Which returns us to the wonderful world of the Digital Versatile Disc. Not the countless assault of shiny multiple-disc special/limited/extended editions of major studio-released movies that populate every retail store this side of The Warehouse, but the ever-expanding market of foreign-based DVD movie releases; literally a godsend for any film enthusiast, filmmaker or fanatic of world cinema – and particularly if you're from this part of the globe.


We do, as much, have this thing called Internet to thank, as we do the weak US dollar, the advent of the credit card and the transparency of industry restrictions. In theory, DVDs are coded to work only within their designated areas of the world (which is divided into 6 regions) as a means of controlling theatrical release dates and distribution (a Hollywood studio, for example, does not want New Zealanders to be able to view an American DVD release of a movie before it is released locally). New parallel importing laws, of course, help to curb any instances of this. Individuals, however, are still within their rights to indulge themselves as much as their credit limit allows.

And in practice, these so-called "enforcements" put in place to protect the interests of the various industries concerned have, more or less, been negotiated around. Region coding, for example, has become something of a side issue, with many non-studio DVD companies no longer making their releases exclusive to a single region, but coding them for universal use. And even checking the region of a DVD has become inconsequential, with most DVD players on the market (including models priced as low as $99) designed with or with the capability of becoming region-free machines.

Lumière acknowledges that the "border control" of the DVD market is in place for an intended reason, but also recognises that consumer choice is exactly what it is: an individual's right. And to enter the world of DVD imports is simply a matter of considering all of the above, plus acquiring an NTSC-compatible television (of which most are), which will come in handy. The Internet, which has always been a messy affair, is literally a goldmine of all-purpose, specialty and niche online retailers, the majority of which will gladly ship internationally. The following guide strives to make the endless trek through the matrix of websites and search engines just a little less exhausting.

And for every 1 DVD website, there can be at least 1000 DVDs. We're not about to begin hand-picking a list of DVD movies from an impossibly colossal range of international releases; we are, however, providing a small taste of the finest cold-cuts from the exciting world of Asian cinema. The Asian DVD market consists mainly of three territories – Hong Kong, Korea and Japan – and while obvious connotations of illegal piracy and rampant bootlegging do lurk, there is nothing illegitimate about the actual production and sale of DVDs on the websites we recommend. The Asian movie – and consequently DVD – industry has literally exploded over the past 5 years, yet many, many films will fail to find their way into film festivals, distribution or video release elsewhere in the world, let alone New Zealand. As such, for a first-time excursion into the world of DVD imports, this is the perfect place to start.