Sundance ’17: Tokyo Idols

They have done something beyond the powers of American pop and rock stars. They have maintained a strong CD market. That is because Japanese idols are the crack cocaine of cuteness and their addicted fans will purchase discs as another form of collectible merchandise. Their bubbly school girl images are anathema to most feminists, but the degree to which middle-aged Japanese men have used fandom as a substitute for real relations might be even more problematic. British-based Kyoko Miyake examines the phenomenon from the perspective of aspiring performers and the men who “support” them in Tokyo Idols (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Sundance Film Festival.

Popular amongst idol-fans, Rio Hiragi is poised for mainstream crossover success. To breakthrough, she is working the idol scene hard. As the industry demands, she is in constant contact with her fans online and regularly meets them face-to-face at handshake events. These are exactly what they sound like: one minute of ostensibly innocent physical contact and fannish conversation. Miyake zeroes in on the sexual aspect of these events, which is certainly fair and pretty darned disturbing given some of the age differentials. At least Hiragi is maybe old enough to vote—and frankly seems rather together. It just gets creepy when we watch grown men cheering and chatting up fourteen- and twelve-years old idols.

As an expat who still returns to Japan semi-regularly, Miyake (who documented her lovely aunt’s resilience after the 2011 earthquake-tsunami in My Atomic Aunt) had the right balance of critical distance and common cultural references to do justice to her subject. She asks plenty of tough questions, getting many fans to admit they have given up on legitimate romantic relationships, preferring their brief intervals of chaste “girlfriend experience” with their favorite idols. However, she never directly drops the “p” word, even though it hangs in the air like a skydiving white elephant. Yet somehow, throughout it all, the audience will still find themselves rooting for Hiragi to make it to the next level up.

Frankly, based on the interactions and interviews Miyake captures, it is hard to say which are the more pitiable, the girls (and they really are still girls) who sacrifice their youth for the sake of fame, or the men who throwaway any hope of connecting with a woman in real time and in some cases, slavish devote all their disposable income to boosting their favorites’ careers. It is a fascinating and sometimes uncomfortable deep dive into Japanese pop culture. Highly recommended for fans of J-pop and anyone who wants to put the Japanese national psyche on the couch for analysis, Tokyo Idols screens again tomorrow (1/24) in Salt Lake and Thursday (1/26) and Friday (1/27) in Park City, as part of this year’s Sundance.

Surviving the Tsunami: Kyoko Miyake’s Atomic Aunt

Before the tsunami, Kuniko Asada had most of the milestone events in Namie, Fukushima covered. She ran a wedding chapel, a funeral parlor, and a patisserie, for coffee and pastries in between. She remains quite an entrepreneur, but the future of her beloved home town is very much in doubt. Expatriate filmmaker Kyoko Miyake returned home to document her indomitable aunt during a challenging time of transition and the fate of her beloved Namie in Surviving the Tsunami: My Atomic Aunt (trailer here), which premieres this Sunday on PBS's World Channel, as part of the current season of Doc World.

Namie was the sort of idyllic coastal village you might expect to see in a Kore-eda film. As a young girl, Miyake always enjoyed the sunny weather and relaxed rhythms during her summer visits. Only after 3/11 did she realize how whole-heartedly the community welcomed in the Tokyo Electric Power Co. (TEPCO) nuclear plant. Like so many provincial communities, Namie lacked the necessary opportunities to retain young residents. The Fukushima power plant seemed like exactly the sort of economic development the town needed.

Of course, things look very different now. Throughout most of the film, Asada anxiously awaits the government’s verdict whether Namie will ever be habitable again. She definitely turns against nuclear power—and to some extent Miyake does too, but as a Tokyo resident she realized all the electricity the city consumed must be generated somehow.

Indeed, Miyake and her aunt are fully aware of the contradictions and hypocrisies of post-Fukushima life. These often manifest in poignant ways, as when Miyake catches Asada watering her plants during her brief salvaging trips home, because how could she not? There are telling scenes like that throughout the film, as well as a few wince-inducing moments, such as an embarrassing TEPCO promotional video from what looks like early 1990s, assuring viewers the plant was built high enough to withstand a tsunami. (To be fair, that was sort of true, but tragically they did not take into account the buckling effect of the preceding earthquake).

Miyoko’s Aunt Kuniko is indeed a lovely and dignified woman, but ultimately it is her enterprising nature that gives us hope for a redemptive future. She represents the best of the Japanese national character, but ironically that stoic resiliency let the rest of the world basically forget the continuing struggles of the Fukushima region. Highly recommended as a dramatic personal story and a wider reality check, the Women Make Movies-supported Surviving the Tsunami: My Atomic Aunt premieres this Sunday (10/30) on PBS World.