When the 2011 Tsunami struck Japan, Ami’s mother Satomi rushed to the coast, hoping to save her parents (Ami’s grandparents), who were tragically lost to the waters. For a year, Satomi stayed, trying to make amends and hopefully find her parents, while Ami stayed with in Singapore with her father, Wen Yong. For a while, Satomi sent little Ami audio tapes, before falling silent.
For years, her father told Ami her mother had died. However, the uncertainty torments her, especially when her fragmentary spectral visions of her mother increase in frequency. Eventually, Wen Yong realizes Ami’s profound need to resolve the truth of her mother’s fate in Japan, but since he must care for her other ailing grandmother, he arranges for her Uncle Isamu (his brother-in-law) to accompany her. Isamu is not exactly welcoming, but they share a kinship, because he is similarly haunted by his late wife, who was also swept away by the tsunami.
If ghosts exists, which is doubtful, then they most likely resemble the way Woodford [largely, but maybe not exclusively] depicts them—as memories and regrets that are so potent, they manifest themselves into ghostly visions. Nobody needs an exorcist in Last Shadow Arguably, Ami sorts of hopes to do the opposite. Regardless, the film’s examination of grief will absolutely devastate most viewers, especially those who have recently suffered a loss.
Woodford truly stretches the meaning of a “ghost movie,” but that ironically makes Last Shadow so keenly human. This is a subtle, subdued film, but those are also its strengths. Highly recommended, Last Shadow at First Light starts streaming Friday (9/20) on IndiePix Unlimited.
