Japan Cuts ’10: About Her Brother

Tora-san, the traveling salesman and prodigal half-brother, was a comic staple of Japanese cinema from 1969 to 1995. All forty-eight films were scripted by Yoji Yamada, who also helmed all but two of them. Though much more serious in tone, it is hard not to recognize echoes of his beloved tramp in Yamada’s latest film, About Her Brother (trailer here), the closing film of the 60th Berlinale which also screens on the final night of this year’s Japan Cuts: Festival of Contemporary Japanese Film.

Koharu is a child of the 1970’s, who directly references the Tora-san series in the film’s introduction. However, she has an old-fashioned name thanks to her mother Ginko’s brother, her crazy Uncle Tetsuro. Though Tetsuro tried to be a responsible brother and uncle shortly after the death of Koharu’s father, he just was not cut out for it. Disappearing for long periods of time, Tetsuro usually pops up unexpectedly at the most inopportune times, to make a drunken spectacle of himself. When his surprise appearance at Koharu’s wedding thoroughly mars the ceremony, his family officially cuts their ties. Yet, Ginko still finds herself cleaning up after her younger brother.

While Brother’s storyline is strictly Melodrama 101, Yamada is a remarkably sensitive director, finding the dignity within each character. Indeed, the fitting symmetry of its conclusion nicely redeems the occasionally overly weepy on-screen drama. Yet, it is the film’s powerful central performance that really holds it all together.

Reuniting with the star of his highly recommended historical drama Kabei: Our Mother (one of last year’s ten best films), Yamada again casts Sayuri Yoshinaga as a single mother coping with trying times. A warm and elegant screen presence, her understated performance is truly touching. As her ne’er do well brother Tetsuro, Tsurube Shofukutei is not exactly subtle, but he has some poignant moments with Yoshinaga. While the role might be a bit underwritten, the endearing Yū Aoi also conveys Koharu’s maturation quite effectively.

Though not as deep or rewarding as Yamada’s recent historical dramas, Brother is a refreshingly earnest and even wholesome family film. Portraying decent, hard-working people doing the best that they can (and also good old Tetsuro), Brother has real heart. It screens this Friday (7/16) at the Japan Society, as the 2010 Japan Cuts sadly comes to a close.

Japan Cuts ’10: Memories of Matsuko

Even though Matsuko Kawajiri always has a song in her heart, one would never expect to find her in a movie musical. Her world might have been candy-colored, but it was also cruel, constantly denying her the love she yearned for in Tetsuya Nakashima emotionally draining movie musical Memories of Matsuko (trailer here), a “Best of the Unreleased Naughties” selection screening of the 2010 Japan Cuts: Festival of Contemporary Japanese Film.

Shô Kawajiri never knew he had an Aunt Matsuko until his father off-handedly tells him of her murder. Going through something of an aimless period in his own life, he agrees to clean out his Aunt’s apartment for his somewhat estranged old man. As he rummages through the remnants of her fractured life, he comes to know his Aunt better in death than anyone knew her in life.

Matsuko endured more suffering than seems humanly possible. Once a conscientious teacher popular for her singing voice, she was unfairly dismissed for a crime she did not commit. Disowned by her family, she tolerated one abusive relationship after another, desperately seeking the love her father withheld. Spiraling ever downward, she is lured into a career of vice, even doing a stint in prison. At least there she meets of her few true friends, the future porn-star tycoon Megumi Sawamura. Unfortunately, the ever-suffering Kawajiri is not even close to bottoming out, yet she perseveres, like an indomitable Candide in a blizzard of humiliation.

Though at times it presents itself as an over-the-top parody, Memories is an absolutely exhausting film. It never, ever lets up on its poor kind-hearted protagonist. Indeed, Miki Nakatani’s earnest performance is so endearingly goofy and vulnerable, it makes Memories that much more difficult to watch. Beyond compelling, she is frankly devastating. She is the film, but Asuka Kurosawa is also quite touching as the alluring Sawamura.

Strangely, Memories works surprisingly well on a musical level, particularly Matsuko’s poignant yet devilishly catchy theme song by Gabriele Roberto and Takeshi Shibuya. Also represented at this year’s Japan Cuts with Confessions, the brilliant opening selection, Nakashima is obviously not drawn to cheerful trifles. Ironically, while Memories is a far more depressing cinematic experience (despite its bright colors and upbeat songs), it ultimately expresses a deeply humanist sentiment not found in Confessions. In fact, Memories explicitly states: “no life is meaningless.”

Fearless in the title role, Nakatani justly swept the Japanese film awards for Memories. Technically and dramatically accomplished, it is a film sure to inspire passionate reactions. Love it or hate, when Memories is over, you will know you saw a film. It screens at the Japan Society this coming Thursday (7/15).

Japan Cuts ’10: Nightmare Detective 2

Kyoichi Kagenuma might not be much, but if you are terrorized by your dreams, he is the one person you can turn to. Of course, he would much prefer to be left alone, but one high school student is desperate for his help in Shinya Tsukamoto’s Nightmare Detective 2 (trailer here), which screens as part of the 2010 Japan Cuts Festival’s “Best of the Unreleased Naughties” focus on films from the last ten years that have yet to be picked up for American theatrical distribution.

Cursed with tremendous psychic sensitivity, Kagenuma can enter other people’s dreams to seek out and alleviate subconscious disturbances. Unfortunately, the Nightmare Detective cannot heal himself. Experiencing nightmares of increasing severity, Kagenuma simply wants to be left alone. However, Yukie Mashiro is persistent. Ever since a taunting incident went too far, she has been plagued by dreams that seem to have a frighteningly real effect on her waking life. When Kagenuma finally relents, it is for his own reasons, rooted in his traumatic childhood.

The second installment of what is considered the most conventionally commercial work of genre rebel Tsukamoto, ND2 is not nearly as graphic as one might expect. Given the subject matter, most viewers will be on-guard for plentiful scenes inviting the question: is this reality or is it still a dream? Yet, the themes of forgiveness and mercy lend the film unexpected depth.

Yui Miura and Hanae Kan are almost shockingly good as the sleep deprived Mashiro and her former victim turned tormentor. Miura covers a particularly wide emotional range as the not-so-innocent victim. Though not an electrifying screen presence, Ryuhei Matsuda also delivers quite effectively in the film’s quiet dramatic moments.

Rest assured, Tsukamoto certainly creates a moody atmosphere and supplies a number of creepy moments. Yet, there is a sense of restraint evident in ND2 deliberately shunned in his bizarre cult Tetsuo series. Frankly, the film is the better for it. While representing the high end of Japanese horror, ND2 should still satisfy fans of the first film and the genre in general. It screens at the Japan Society this coming Wednesday (7/14) as part of the 2010 Japan Cuts: Festival of Contemporary Japanese Cinema.

Japan Cuts ’10: King of Thorn

Evidently in the future, technology will make fairy tales come true—at least the scary parts. For 160 patients who have contracted a lethal new disease, a mysterious cryogenic facility represents hope for a future. However, the story of Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty) takes on unforeseen significance for them in Kazuyoshi Katayama’s apocalyptic science fiction anime feature King of Thorn (trailer here), which screens as part of the 2010 Japan Cuts: Festival of New Japanese Cinema.

The Medusa virus is a death sentence. It lays dormant for sixty days and then turns its victims into calcified statues. Venus Gate, a big pharma conglomerate, offers to the chance to arrest the disease’s progression in their Cold Sleep Capsule Center (CSCC), while their scientists presumably work to develop a cure. However, the government is suspicious of their true intentions and for good reason. Their CEO is Ivan Vega, a former Soviet chemical weapons officer, and their majority stockholder is a doomsday cult. Sleep tight.

Needless to say, things do not proceed as advertised. Rudely awakened, they find their sleep chamber overgrown with thorny vines. Then the monsters attack, quickly thinning their ranks to an archetypal seven, including Kasumi Ishiki, a young school girl desperate to learn what has become of her identical twin. Unfortunately, the survivors have no idea how long they have slept, or if the world outside the ruined CSCC even still exists.

While Thorn’s characterization is roughly on par with the anime industry standard, its fusion of futuristic speculative fiction and old fashioned fairy tales is eerily effective. Indeed, Katayama’s briar imagery is quite memorable. Based on a manga series by Yuji Iwahara that has been licensed in America, it certainly shares common elements with a host of science fiction films, but it synthesizes them in intriguing ways. Yet, it is the tragic vibe that really distinguishes the film. Still, the final twenty minutes or so can be hair-pullingly frustrating, as Thorn burrows ever deeper into Matrix-like territory.

Thorn is a pretty cool manga to anime transfer. Granted, the core audience will be the otaku-fanboys, but those who come to Japan Cuts for more art-house oriented fare might find it a diverting surprise. It screens at the Japan Society (in Manhattan’s fashionable Turtle Bay neighborhood) this Sunday (7/11).

Japan Cuts ’10: Zero Focus

Japan’s defeat in WWII was a bitter pill to swallow, but the fall of old order represented opportunity to many, including Japanese women. Of course, they have to be the right sort of socially-advantaged women. One young newlywed gets a lesson in post-war sociology as she searches for her missing husband in Isshin Inudou’s remake of Yoshitaro Nomura’s 1961 classic Zero Focus (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Japan Cuts: Festival of Japanese Film at the Japan Society.

While the war left many Japanese citizens deeply disillusioned, Teiko emerged with her innocence intact, with little experience in the world at large. Kenichi Uhara by contrast, literally carries the scars of war. Though he never discusses his past, their shy courtship eventually ends in an arranged marriage. Shortly after their wedding, Uhara travels to his company’s regional office in provincial Kanazawa to facilitate his successor’s transition. However, when the date of his return duly circled on Teiko’s calendar comes and goes without his arrival, she starts to worry.

Eventually, Teiko travels north in hopes of finding her husband. As soon as she steps off the train, she is whisked to the prefecture’s notorious suicide cliffs to identify a body matching her husband’s description. While his fate remains in doubt, Teiko starts her own reluctant investigation, quickly determining it may well involve two local women. One is Sachiko Murota, the powerful wife of her husband’s biggest client, who has been bankrolling the candidacy of Kanazawa’s (and Japan’s) potential first woman mayor. The other is Hisako Tanuma, an uneducated fallen woman working in the Murata factory through the personal intervention of Mr. Murota himself.

Focus captures a transitional point in Japanese history, when the Imperial autocracy had just been abolished and few were sad to see it go. The prospects for women are also improving, to the point where victory for Sachiko Murota’s candidate is not outside the realm of possibility. Yet, certain social strictures remain as cruelly inflexible as ever.

Originally based on a novel by Seicho Matsumoto, Focus is distinctly Cornell Woolrich-like in its approach to domestic drama. Indeed, Inudo consciously follows the Hitchcockian template, playing up the psychological aspects of Matsumoto’s story. The mountainous Kanazawa region is also a locale the master of suspense would love. One almost expects to see Kim Novak peering over the precipice. Unlike Hitch’s classics though, this is not a story of a wrongly accused man. Rather it is a film of women, varying from the innocent to the implicated. Yet the notion of guilty as such proves a bit slippery within the psychological context of the film.

Serving as a showcase for three of Japan’s top actresses, Focus features a trio of very strong performances. Probably most recognizable to American audiences as the wife in the Academy Award winning Departures, Ryoko Hirosue gives a knockout performance as the concerned young wife. Yes, she is sweet and vulnerable, but there is some nicely understated self-asserting character development going on as well. In contrast, Miki Nakatani seems to be channeling Bette Davis (in a good way) as Murota, while Tae Kimura is absolutely heartrending as Tanuma.

Lushly produced, Focus is an emotionally complex thriller that holds together quite well. Deliberately Hitchcockian yet distinctly Japanese, it is an intriguing selection for Japan Cuts. It screens this Friday (7/9) and next Thursday (7/15) at the Japan Society as part of the ongoing Japan Cuts festival.

Japan Cuts ’10: Parade

Five young people sharing living quarters might sound like a familiar comedic set-up, but at least the apartment is realistically small. While these roommates might have their requisite eccentricities, there is sense menace lurking on the margins of their lives in Isao Yukisada’s Parade (trailer here), a selection of this year’s Pusan and Berlin Film Festivals, which screens during the 2010 Japan Cuts: Festival of Contemporary Japanese Film now underway at the Japan Society.

Technically, it is the perennially stressed-out Naoki’s apartment, but he took on three roommates after his girlfriend left. Frankly, it is meant for two people, but somehow they manage reasonably well. Ryosuke is an underachieving college student, Mirai is an “f-hag” graphic artist, and the unemployed Kotomi simply whiles away the time waiting for her television actor boyfriend to call. Into the mix comes Satoru, a blond street hustler invited in one by a roommate too dead drunk at the time to remember after the fact. It hardly matters though. Once he is in, he is essentially accepted, and besides Naoki (who constantly labors for a film distributor), he is the only one who works steadily.

Amazingly, when not living atop each other, the five roomies go out together quite regularly. Life seems to be a drunken blur for the fab five, but there is a disturbing vibe lingering below the surface. Yukisada introduces three possible plot points that might upset their mostly responsibility-free lives. There are news reports of a serial killer targeting women in the neighborhood. Closer to home, Kotomi and Ryosuke suspect the next door apartment is a den of prostitution. As the film opens, Ryosuke also receives the tragic news that a freshman year classmate recently died in an accident. One of these developments provides Parade’s ultimate kicker.

Deftly helmed, Parade is deceptively understated. It often feels like a sitcom threatening to break into a horror film. Yet, while somewhat telegraphed, it painstakingly establishes the foundation for the quiet horror of its conclusion.

Though certainly an ensemble piece, Tatsuya Fujiwara and Kento Hayashi, as Naoki and Satoru respectively, eventually take over the film. It is hard to describe their dynamic between them, but they handle the balancing act quite well. The uni-named Karina is also a consistently intriguing presence, making quite an impression as the sometimes unsettling Mirai. Conversely, Shihori Kanjiya and Kensuke Koide learn more towards the comedic as Kotomi and Ryosuke.

Parade is a very smart movie that offers a cogent criticism of our aimless, desensitized times. Effectively constructed and executed, it is a very accomplished work. Highly recommended, it screens at the Japan Society on Friday (7/9) and Saturday (7/10), with Yukisada in attendance for Q&A at both showings.

Japan Cuts ’10: Bare Essence of Life Ultra Miracle Love Story

Yojin Mizuki might be a young man, but he acts like a kid who could use a dose of Ritalin. Oddly enough, pesticide seems to have the same effect on him. Not exactly Prince Charming, the new kindergarten teacher will have to deal with his not particularly welcome, chemically stabilized attentions in Satoko Yokohama’s Bare Essence of Life Ultra Miracle Love Story (trailer here), which screens during the Japan Society’s 2010 Japan Cuts: Festival of Contemporary Japanese Film.

Twenty-something Mizuki is still a handful to deal with. Fortunately, his grandmother has a lot of patience. However, she has real concerns about his ability to live independently once she has gone. As a test, she has granted him his own vegetable patch on the family organic farm. So far, the bug-infested results are not encouraging, which is why Mizuki sought out some chemical help. Through a strange set of circumstances that could only happen to the overgrown adolescent, he gets a pesticide shower, but he feels just fine. In fact, he can converse relatively rationally with Machiko Shinsen, his new crush.

For obvious reasons, Shinsen is not thrilled by Mizuki’s advances. She is also trying to resolve her feelings for an ex-lover who was decapitated in an auto accident. Still, though Mizuki does not exactly wear down her objections, strange things seem to happen when he is around.

Essence starts off like a quirky indie dramedy, complete with two legitimately funny kindergartners, who up-stage their adult co-stars in all their scenes. Yet, it matter-of-factly veers into magical realism territory as the unforeseen consequence of Mizuki’s self-medicating, accepted at face-value by the hard-working citizens of provincial Aomori Prefecture.

Indeed, Yokohama maintains a weird tone during Essence, keeping viewers off-balance throughout. It is hard to get a bead on Mizuki—“his wiring is just different,” we are told. Ken’ichi Matsuyama (recognizable to some as the mysterious L in the Death Note series) approaches Kojin as a showcase role, with plenty of all too convincing hyper acting-out and tic-y foibles. Though generally sympathetic, his portrayal is hardly saintly. Mercifully, this is not a Japanese Phenomenon. Likewise, the not always likable Shinsen, brought to life with tremendous credibility by Kumiko Aso, certainly warms to her trying suitor, but she does not exactly throw caution to the wind.

Up until the conclusion, Yokohama largely reigns in Essence’s potentially quirky excesses. Indeed, thanks to a disciplined cast (including the surprisingly charming youngsters) and its realistic grounding in a scrupulously un-romanticized Aomori, the film mostly hits its marks, largely overcoming potential viewer resistance to its heroic eccentricity. It screens at the Japan Society this Wednesday (7/7) as Japan Cuts continues through July 16th.

NYAFF ’10 & Japan Cuts ‘10: Golden Slumber

Nostalgia—it’s a killer. Poor, hapless Aoyagi learns that the hard way. One minute he is listening to Beatles covers with an old college friend and before he knows it, he is the fall guy framed for the assassination of Japan’s Prime Minister. Freely remixing the familiar Oswald mythos for today’s celebrity culture, Yoshihiro Nakamura’s Golden Slumber (trailer here), screens in New York this week, as a joint presentation of the New York Asian Film Festival and the Japan Society’s Japan Cuts: Festival of New Japanese Film.

Aoyagi is one of the few average Joe deliverymen with his own fans. Several years ago he had twenty minutes of fame after coming to the rescue of a Japanese Pop Idol. Not particularly bright, that modicum of notoriety makes him a perversely fitting patsy for the evil scheme afoot. Thanks to his old (and now late) college chum, the noose has been fitted fairly well around Aoyagi’s neck, but he proves to be an unexpectedly elusive fugitive.

With its ever widening conspiracy and the frequent flashbacks to Aoyagi’s college years, Slumber is not unlike a more grounded version of 20th Century Boys for boomers. Similarly, there are some clever plot points that show how events from the past can influence the present. Still, it is a bit problematic that one of Aoyagi’s few allies is an apparent serial killer—and not of the Dexter variety either.

Reflecting the postmodern information age, nobody really seems to believe Aoyagi is guilty, despite the mountain of doctored evidence the authorities release to the public. Indeed, he is frequently compared to Oswald by name throughout the film. However, the compliancy of the news media in key moments frankly does not seem credible, given the current zeitgeist informing the film.

While we are mercifully spared most of the details of the meta-conspiracy itself, what we get is also predictably out of an Oliver Stone bag, with the anti-American firebrand eliminated in favor of an old political deal-maker (a tired cliché even in Japanese cinema.) Fortunately, the fugitive-on-the-run material works very well, celebrating the humanity of small acts of mercy Aoyagi experiences along the way. In fact, beneath the paranoia, there is a real heart to Slumber.

Earnestly likable, Masato Sakai heads a strong cast, bringing surprising depth to the film as Aoyagi. Yuko Takeuchi (seen on ABC’s Flashforward before the network sabotaged the show with annoying scheduling games) is an intelligent and charming presence as his old flame, Haruko. Akira Emoto seems born to play grouchy old men (as in All About Us), but again, he is also quite watchable as a prickly hospital patient who aids and abets Aoyagi.

There are a few head-scratching scenes in Slumber, but there are some genuinely endearing moments as well. One of the more sentimental conspiracy thrillers you are ever likely to see, it screens at the Japan Society on Friday (7/2) and Tuesday (7/6).

NYAFF ’10 & Japan Cuts ’10: Confessions

This is not a Japanese Sweet Valley High. However, it has murder, madness, revenge, peer pressure, and AIDS—all your basic middle school stuff. When a teacher’s four year old daughter is murdered by two of her seventh graders, Yuko Moriguchi uses a brutally effective tool to extract her retribution on the guilty students—social marginalization by their peers. It is all part of her stone cold plan in Tetsuya Nakashima’s jaw-dropping, hyper-realistic drama Confessions (trailer here), the centerpiece of the New York Asian Film Festival and the opening night selection of Japan Society’s Japan Cuts: Festival of New Japanese Film, presented jointly by the two fests.

Moriguchi has some surprising news for her homeroom class. She is resigning her teaching position, because her heart simply is not in it anymore. She still mourns her daughter Manami, who drowned in the school’s swimming pool under mysterious circumstances. Her grief is all the more acute because Manami’s biological father, whom Moriguchi was never able to marry, is rapidly deteriorating from full blown AIDS. However, she knows the identity of the culprits thanks to the confession of the arrogant mastermind. Coolly and methodically, she reveals their identity to her stunned class after injecting the young killers’ milk cartons with the infected blood of her former lover. Responding out of fear and ignorance, the class reacts to that bit of news as if Manami’s murders had the plague. So ends Moriguchi’s “confession” and the first twenty minutes of the film. From there, things start to get dark and twisted.

Indeed, Moriguchi’s confession, the first of four, is so riveting, one expects a major let down once Nakashima shifts narrative gears. Yet the intensity only momentarily flags, as we start to witness the disconcerting aftermath of Moriguchi’s j’accuse. It is not over anyone yet, but Moriguchi temporarily retreats from view, allowing the high school’s harsh social dynamics to do her bidding.

Nakashima’s razor sharp screenplay (based on a novel by Kanae Minato) slices through the human condition, down to the bone. Frankly, viewers may find themselves deeply disturbed by their own reactions to Confessions’ ultimate twists and turns. Perhaps lazy reviewers might compare it to a film like Heathers, but the similarities are only superficial. Nakashima’s morality play about amoral youth is absolutely uncompromising and holds several sit-up-in-your-seat shocks for the audience.

Takako Matsu, seen during last year’s NYAFF in the escapist K20: Legend of the Mask, delivers a powerful, perfectly pitched performance, expressing all the pain and rage no mother would want to experience, while maintaining an alarming sense of outer calm. Developed with Matsu specifically in mind, she vindicates Nakashima’s faith in spades.

Masterfully helmed, Nakashima maintains an eerily unsettling atmosphere while coaxing his young cast to some truly frightening performances. Smart and chilling, Confessions is a highlight of both NYAFF and Japan Cuts, as well as any other festival it might play. Highly recommended, it screens at the Japan Society on Thursday (7/1) and Sunday (the 4th).

NYAFF ’10 & Japan Cuts ’10: The Blood of Rebirth

In Fifteenth Century Japan, heroic masseurs roamed the land, living by their wits and hands. At least such is the case for Oguri, the protagonist of Japanese director Toshiaki Toyoda’s comeback vehicle. Derived from the legend of Oguri Hangan Daisukeshige (the hero of many great kabuki theater productions) and Buddhist concepts of reincarnation, Toyoda’s trippy The Blood of Rebirth (trailer here) screens in New York this week, as a joint presentation of the New York Asian Film Festival and the Japan Society’s Japan Cuts: Festival of New Japanese Film.

Oguri is a wandering masseur who treasures his freedom. When the syphilitic Lord Daizen requests his services, he knows it is a bad gig, but he cannot say no. When he politely declines an offer to become a permanent retainer, the cruel warlord murders the footloose Oguri. However, when the noble masseur reaches the after-world, he declines a place in paradise, preferring to return to the world he knew. Unfortunately, his reincarnated body comes back as a “hungry ghost” which must be submerged in a mythical spring of life for his spirit to be renewed. Feeling a strange connection to Oguri, Terute, Daizen’s only surviving disease-free concubine, escapes from the royal camp to drag the masseur’s husk to the rumored magical waters. Much death and rebirth ensues.

Blood is a lot like the psychedelic 1970’s films made by the likes of Dennis Hopper and Don Cammel with a bunch of their stoned friends up in the Hollywood Hills. Featuring an acidic prog-rocky soundtrack with some monster drum breaks performed by the band Twin Tail, a lush verdant backdrop, and strange metaphysical themes, it is definitely a druggie friendly film. (Ironically, it was an arrest for possession of “stimulants” that very nearly ended Toyoda’s career.) Yet, there is definitely a craftsmanship apparent in each and every scene.

Toyoda’s approach is often cool and maddening, simultaneously. Knowing when he has a striking shot, he holds some scenes seemingly forever. Still, there is no denying there are things in Blood audiences have never seen on film before. It even concludes with a genuinely uplifting crowd-pleaser of an ending that still remains faithful to the tenor of the film (if not the restrictions of logic). Though not necessarily a great showcase for the cast’s acting chops, Twin Tail drummer Tatsuya Nakamura is appropriately cool and world weary as Oguri, while the standout Mayuu Kusakari is surprisingly touching as Terute.

Indeed, Blood will not be to everyone’s tastes, not by a long shot. For the adventurous viewer though, it ultimately pays off rather well. For those who enjoy archetypal fantasy and power drumming, it screens this Friday (7/2) and Saturday (7/3) at the Japan Society as a joint selection of NYAFF and Japan Cuts.