JFFSF ’17: Close-Knit

It is tough enough being a kid, but the family twelve-year-old-ish Tomo keeps supplying fresh complications. Even though she is used to it, Tomo is still confused and resentful when her unstable mother abandons her yet again. Initially, she also has a hard time getting her head around her uncle’s transgender girlfriend, but when the unconventional couple takes her in, she starts to respond to the secure and loving home they provide in Naoko Ogigami’s Close-Knit (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Japanese Film Festival of San Francisco.

Tomo’s mother has done this before, but never for this long. Makio tries not to judge her too harshly, because he knows how hard their mother treated her when they were growing up. Before, it was harder for him to put-up Tomo in his Spartan bachelor pad, but his flat is now quite homey thanks to his live-in girlfriend Rinko. Sensing the young girl’s bewilderment, Rinko explains she was born male, but is in the late stage of transitioning, saving the more specific detail for later.

Having witnessed the bullying of Kai, a closeted classmate, Tomo is rather standoffish at first. However, Rinko’s warmth and smiley face bentos quickly win her over. Soon she is even teaching Tomo how to use knitting as an anger management tool (and thereby establishing the dual meaning of the title). Tomo’s relationship with Rinko also helps her relate to Kai with greater compassionate. Unfortunately, Kai’s shrewish mother Naomi remains rigidly repressive.

In case we missed the point, Ogigami contrasts the judgmental environment Naomi creates, with flashbacks to Rinko’s years as a boy in middle school, when she received from amazing support and understanding from her tough but cool mother Fumiko. Frankly, the entire Kai subplot could certainly be accused of driving its points into the ground and halfway to Timbuktu. However, Ogigami and the first readers of her script probably felt it was necessary, so Rinko’s relationship with her mother would not be dismissed as uncharacteristically and unrealistically positive and accepting. Unfortunately, that makes poor little Kai the film’s whipping boy.

Regardless of the LGBT themes, young Rinka Kakihara gives a remarkably accomplished performance as Tomo. She sure-footedly covers a wide emotional gambit. When we watch her, we are keenly aware Close-Knit is more than a social issue drama and Tomo has more going on in her life than campaigning for transgender rights. She also has an enormously problematic relationship with her mother, whose absence is still very painful.

Obviously, a lot of attention will understandably focus on Toma Ikuta’s portrayal of Rinko. He is very good as her, completely eschewing all cheap clichés and contrived flamboyances. As he plays Rinko, she is just a woman working to find her place in the world, who thinks she may have found a focal point for her motherly instincts in Tomo. Misako Tanaka is wonderfully tart-tongued as Fumiko, but Kenta Kiritani is likely to be unfairly looked for his appealingly humane and understated work as Uncle Makio.

So, we were saying something about the Japanese film industry’s aptitude for domestic dramas. As it happens, Close-Knit is considered a bit of a departure from Ogigami’s previous female empowerment comedies, like the low-key but charming Rent-a-Cat, but it is dramatically and stylistically quite compatible with films like Miwa Nishikawa’s The Long Excuse and Kore-eda’s After the Storm. Of course, the sexual orientation themes are not accidental, which would make Close-Knit a heck of a shrewd choice for Japan to submit for best foreign language Oscar consideration. (As far as we can tell, it easily fulfills the language and release date requirements, but you never know what the Academy quibble over.) Regardless, it is a very nice film about a little girl, her uncle, and perhaps her future aunt doing their best in a messy world. Recommended for those who would appreciate either as a family story or a quiet transgender message movie, Close-Knit screens this Friday (9/8), as part of this year’s JFFSF.

Blissfully Thai: The Iron Ladies

Aside from two weeks during Olympic years, Volleyball is not much of a priority for American sports watchers. However, it is serious business in many countries, even in odd years. In Thailand, a championship team consisting entirely of gay and transsexual players was a big deal in the late 1990’s. That was indeed the dream for a scrappy team of marginalized underdogs. Their true story inspired Yongyoot Thongkongtoon’s The Iron Ladies (trailer here), which screens tonight as part of the Asia Society’s Blissfully Thai retrospective of Thai cinema since 2000.

Mon is not nearly as flamboyant as his friend Jung. Yet, despite his talent, the regional volleyball clubs consistently discriminate against him. However, when Coach Bee moves up from the high school ranks to the semi-pros, she sets a policy of fair and open try-outs, which she really means. She has an affinity for the underdog herself. After all, her short hair and unglamorous attire make everyone assume she is gay as well—a fact the film neither confirms nor denies.

As per viewer expectations, when she accepts Mon and Jung, nearly the entire team quits in protest. Fortunately, they are able to recruit a credible team from their circle of friends, who will have quite a run at the league championship tournament.

Naturally, the team is quite colorful in a drama queen sort of way. There is the elegant female impersonator diva, the strong but sensitive army sergeant, and the closeted son of traditional parents. Of course, he is set to marry a ridiculously cute fiancé, whom he has no interest in whatsoever. If these sound like stereotypes, that is because they are.

The real life so-called Iron Ladies were indeed a Thai cultural phenomenon twenty-some years ago. At the time the second highest grossing Thai film ever, Iron even spawned a sequel, cleverly titled Iron Ladies 2. However, its comedy through “swishiness” formula is likely to make many hip New Yorkers uncomfortable. Yet, its message of tolerance and inclusion comes through loud and clear (essentially hitting viewers over the head). Still, Iron perhaps inspired some Thai audiences to look beyond stock stereotypes by first embracing them, or something like that.

In the spirit of teamwork, Iron’s ensemble cast collectively gives it their all. Yet, the most intriguing performances are those that stay grounded rather than charging over the top. Particularly effective is Sirithana Hongsophon as Coach Bee, who initially comes across as strictly business, but slowly allows her mothering instincts to emerge. Amongst the players, Sashaparp Virakamin is clearly the most credible, showing some degree of nuance, rather than just adapting bits from La Cage Aux Folles.

Breezy and well intentioned, Iron is a harmless piece of movie candy. If not a classic by hardcore cineaste standards, it is certainly a significant recent touchstone film, making it an appropriate selection for the Blissfully Thai series. It screens this evening (5/26) at the Asia Society.

The Brothers McKerrow: Prodigal Sons

The educated classes look down at reality television programming as emotionally voyeuristic and sensationalistic tabloid TV. Yet, if you film candid footage of average people, cut it into feature length and screen it in art houses, it is called a documentary and considered serious cinema. Sometimes though, it is hard to tell the difference between the genres. While Prodigal Sons (trailer here), director Kimberly Reed’s documentary examination of her difficult family relationships often feels uncomfortably intrusive, it also has the unlikeliest connection to one of the towering figures of American cinema. After well received screenings at film festivals across the country, including New York’s Newfest, Prodigal opens theatrically in the City today.

Reed was born Paul McKerrow and had long overshadowed her older adopted brother Marc as the star jock of their small town Montana high school. She then made some pretty dramatic changes to her life, which her brother had a particularly hard time accepting. Changing her name to Reed, she moved to New York starting a completely new life. As Prodigal opens, Reed is finally returning to Montana for a high school with her partner Claire Jones and much trepidation about the reception she will find.

Refreshingly, Prodigal does not degenerate into a predictable red state/blue state culture clash. Based on what the film presents, it seems Reed was readily accepted by her former classmates. As the subject of rumors for years, Reed naturally fields a number of questions, but she seems to take them in the spirit of genuine friendship. Indeed, some of the happiest moments of the film occur during the reunion activities. Unfortunately, things are not so easy with her older brother.

For years, Marc McKerrow has suffered from some sort of physiologically induced mental disorder that has never been properly diagnosed. He also has more workaday emotional issues stemming from his adoption. Already feeling rootless and unwanted, Paul’s decision to become Kimberly had profoundly confused the formerly jealous McKerrow brother, leading him to act up and even lash out. Then from out of nowhere comes the revelation of his birth mother’s identity: the daughter of legendary actor-director Orson Welles and glamour goddess Rita Hayworth.

While the transgender aspect of Prodigal is inescapable, it is issues of mental health rather than gender that truly drive the film. Reed might very well experience some ugliness based solely on who she is, but from what the audience sees in the film, her brother’s condition appears to be the single greatest cross she now has to bear.

Sensitive viewers should be warned, there are moments of domestic violence in the film that are frankly harrowing. At times tough to watch, Prodigal is viscerally honest—reality, indeed. Some viewers will probably wonder why they are watching such untitillating reality fare, but at least Prodigal is responsible and achingly earnest in its depiction of very serious mental health concerns. It opens today (2/26) at the Cinema Village.

NYJFF ’10: Berlin ’36

If you do not already know the secret of German high jumper Marie Ketteler, the picture below will probably give it away (“she” is the one on the left). Conversely, her teammate Gretel Bergmann had no secrets. Everyone on the German track team was keenly aware she was Jewish, and never let her forget it. Their strange, unlikely friendship is dramatized in Kaspar Heidelbach’s Berlin ’36 (trailer here), which screens at this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival, presented by the Jewish Museum and the Lincoln Center Film Society.

Though not yet at war with the Third Reich, many concerned Americans advocated boycotting the Berlin games if Germany’s Jewish athletes were not allowed to participate. As the reigning high jump champion, Bergmann’s absence would be especially conspicuous. Reluctantly, she returned to the Fatherland, joining the German team for the sake of her family’s safety. Of course, training is made deliberately uncomfortable for Bergmann. She is constantly harassed by anti-Semitic teammates and is stuck bunking with the weird Ketteler chick.

Of course, the National Socialists never intended to let Bergmann compete, even though she would have been the prohibitive gold medal favorite. Instead, in an act that vividly illustrated the regime’s sick pettiness, a man was recruited to compete as a woman, with the hopes that she would beat out Bergmann for a spot on the time. Yet, even when Bergmann discovered her roommate’s secret, they remained friends. Berlin’s Marie Ketteler is based on the very real Dora Ratjen, who reportedly had genuine medical issues causing her gender confusion. In Berlin, Ketteler was raised as a girl by an abusive mother, even though he wished to live as a man.

Though the Berlin Games had many dramatic stories, Heidelbach’s film focuses solely on the high jumpers. Jesse Owens is maybe seen in passing, but never factors as a character. Likewise, controversial filmmaker and National Socialist propagandist Leni Riefenstahl, who famously documented the games in Olympia, never appears. Strangely though, the film is rather generous in its depiction of U.S. Olympic Committee president Avery Brundage, who was always considered a staunch opponent of any boycott (and not particularly sensitive to the plight of Jewish athletes).

Berlin chronicles a fascinating episode in history, but it is beset by one rather obvious problem. Granted, the historic Ratjen might not look very feminine at all in the photos available on the web, but as Ketteler, Sebastian Urzendowsky simply never looks like a woman or even somewhat androgynous. Ordinarily, that might be a good thing, but it the context of the film, it is a major distraction. He is not necessarily bad in the role, but he just does not look convincing in the part.

To be fair, casting Ketteler is a tricky proposition. Fortunately, Berlin is driven by a winning lead performance from Karoline Herfurth that largely compensates for her struggling costar. She looks like a track star and expresses appropriate anger and fear, without coming across as weak or melodramatic. Berlin also benefits from an effective supporting turn from Axel Prahl as Hans Waldmann, the team’s first coach, who is naturally fired for being too fair-minded and sportsman-like, as well as for having a decidedly un-German mess of an office.

Though the concluding coda featuring interview footage with the real life Bergmann (now Margaret Bergmann-Lambert) might give Berlin a History Channel vibe, most audiences will probably appreciate the chance to hear from her. (Fortunately, she and her family were able to leave Germany before it was too late.) Indeed, hers is an important story people should hear. Though it has its weaknesses, on balance Berlin is a good film that tells its heroine’s story with proper respect and sensitivity. It screens at the Walter Reade Theater Thursday (1/21) and Sunday (1/24), with Bergmann-Lambert attending on the afternoon of the 21st.