Judging
solely on the American drive-by media’s coverage, one would assume Japan was
nothing but a glowing wasteland after the March 11th earthquake and
subsequent nuclear emergency. In
contrast, the Japanese media was evidently restrained to a fault, leaving a vacuum
for rumor, fear, and denial to run rampant. Rather than the all too familiar
images of devastation, Nobuteru Uchida focuses on the messy uncertainties of
the aftermath in Odayaka (trailer here), which screens
during the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival.
When
the quake hit, Saeko’s husband Noboru was typically nowhere to be found. When he finally shows up, it is only to
announce he is abandoning her and their daughter Kiyomi. Next door, Yukako’s husband Tatsuya also arrives
well after the fact, having been toiling in his office, as per usual. Despite the government’s unconvincing
assurances, both women become deeply concerned about Fukushima’s
radiation. As neighbors and acquaintances
belittle their worries, Saeko and Yukako agitation steadily increases. Saeko’s stress is understandably amplified by
her husband’s desertion. Likewise, a
recent painful episode Yukako and Tatsuya never properly dealt with acerbates
her anxiety.
Filmed
in a deliberately lo-fi, no frills style, Odayaka’s
“you are there” vibe is often genuinely uncomfortable to experience. This is no canned made-for-TV movie building
to a cheap triumph over adversity. Uchida
portrays the emotional damage done to his characters in a relentlessly intimate
fashion. Odayaka is a quiet film, but
it stings.
Nonetheless,
along with Chen’s Will You Still Love Me
Tomorrow, Odayaka lends this year’s
festival some major star power. It might
be hard to believe anyone could walk out on Kiki Sugino, the darling of
Japanese indie cinema (often dubbed Japan’s Parker Posey), but she is truly
devastating as Saeko. Always convincing
and never overly showy, her portrayal of a mother coming apart at the seams is
absolutely harrowing.
Likewise,
Yukiko Shinohara plums some dark places as the distressed Yukako. In a way, it is a much more off-putting part. However, she truly lowers the film’s dramatic
boom in key sequences down the stretch. Ami
Watanabe’s Kiyoshi is also remarkably affecting and natural in scenes that
might well be confusing for a young child.
Indeed, Odayaka boasts a
strong supporting cast from stem to stern, especially Makiko Watanabe, who
becomes the face of rigid Japanese social conformity as the queen bee mother at
Kiyoshi’s nursery school.
