Japan Cuts ’18: Dear Etranger

Americans were raised on shows like Full House, so our conception of family is the more the merrier. Japan is more reserved and innately more concerned with issues of authenticity. At least that is certainly the case for two families linked by step-children in Yukiko Mishima’s Dear Etranger (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Makoto Tanaka lives with his second wife Nanae and his two step-daughters, cute-as-a-button-five-ish Eriko and the surly sixth-grader (if that’s not a redundancy) Kaoru. He still sees his first daughter Saori during his limited visits, but she lives with her mother, Tanaka’ ex-wife Yuka and her second husband. Unfortunately, he is rapidly succumbing to late-diagnosis cancer.

Tanaka’s new family also has plenty of drama to contend with, most obviously starting with Nanae’s pregnancy. Resenting this development, Kaoru becomes obsessed with the notion Tanaka is preventing her from seeing her biological father, the abusive compulsive gambler, Sawada. For extra added pressure on Tanaka, he has just been demoted from his salaryman executive position to a job picking orders in the company’s warehouse.

Haruhiko Arai’s screenplay, based on Kiyoshi Shigematsu’s novel, basically unleashes the perfect storm of family challenges, but everything feels believable and true to life, except maybe Kaoru’s hyper-petulance. Seriously kid, give us a break. In fact, Sara Minami is forced to play Kaoru as such a one-note pill, she is considerably outshined by the young but wildly mediagenic Miu Arai as Eriko and Raiju Kamata as Saori, who really scores the film’s knockout punch confronting Tanaka late in the third act.

Yet, for the most part, Etranger is remarkably even-handed. Rena Tanaka and Shinobu Terajima are both unusually potent and messily human as Nanae and Yuka, respectively. It is like their character assets and liabilities are perfectly balanced, item for item. Tadanobu Asano gives them the space and support to shine in their key scenes together, but as Tanaka, he is truly the heart and soul of the film. He is the ultra-Everyman, but with an edge and fraying patience. Likewise, as the contemptible Sawada, Kankuro Kudo finds ways to surprise viewers and humanize his character.

You could almost think of Etranger as the red-headed step-child of Kore-eda’s Like Father, Like Son and Miiwa Nishikawa’s The Long Excuse. It is a quiet film, but there is nothing simple about its family angst. Very highly recommended, Dear Etranger screens tomorrow (7/29) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: Amiko

High school crushes tend to be disappointing, especially if you get stuck with them permanently. Maybe this plucky Japanese school girl should consider herself lucky to be spared the popular Aomi. However, she figures a cute boy who can quote Radiohead is worth fighting for, so she intends to take her shot in screenwriter-director Yoko Yamanaka’s Amiko (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Social media is not exactly a progressive force in Yamanaka’s film, but at least we will be spared the kind of bullying and shaming horror stories that have driven so many recent Japanese high school dramas. Amiko does not have a great many friends, but she is relatively leveled headed. She is not engaging in sexual activity either, though she might have some ambitions with respect to Aomi. He is a disdainfully cool kind of kid, who hates playing on the soccer team, even though he is their star player. Aesthetically, Amiko finds him totally dishy, especially after spending one fateful day with him.

Their banter was everything she could hope for, but they haven’t spoken since. She hasn’t fully revealed her feelings to her bestie Kanako yet, but it is pretty clear she is nursing a crush on someone. That is why Amiko almost feels betrayed when he runs off to Tokyo, under highly disappointing circumstances.

The way the film represents modern teens’ preoccupations and anxieties definitely has the ring of authenticity, which is to be expected, considering Yamanaka shot Amiko on the fly when she was only nineteen-years-old. It also has some of the sad-girl-poetry excesses of its demographic. Nevertheless, there is something appealing about its rawness and lack of pretense. Even with the brief sixty-five-minute running time, Amiko has the stuff of a neo-neo-punk cult favorite. Yet, despite all attention devoted to Aomi, the freshest, most memorable aspect of the film is its depiction of her friendship with Kanako.

Aira Sunohara is terrific as the title character. She can be both tart-tongued and touching, even during the same scene. Likewise, Mako Mineo is quite endearing as the somewhat naïve Kanako. The chemistry shared by her and Sunohara is totally convincing, but it is hard to see why anyone would be so obsessed with Hiroto Oshita’s aloof Aomi.

After watching Amiko, we wish we could introduce the titular protag to Izumi Kawashima, the sarcastic Daria-like heroine of About the Pink Sky. They share similarly mordant perspectives, but Kawashima might have helped moderate Amiko’s consuming ardor. It probably hits home with a bang for many teens, but for older viewers, it is just a mostly amiable but rather rough around the edges amble through the collective unconscious of Japanese youth culture. Recommended as much for Yamanaka’s future promise as for its own merits, Amiko screens tomorrow afternoon (7/29) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts (and screens again this coming Tuesday during Fantasia).

Japan Cuts ’18: Thicker Than Water

Which is harder, running a printing business or maintaining a healthy relationship with your sibling? Clearly, the former, because the Ikuno family print shop is still a going concern. The bond between the Ikuno sisters is an entirely different matter, but the Kanayama Brothers might be even more distant and distrustful in Keisuke Yoshida’s Thicker Than Water (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Yuria Ikuno is smart and hard-working, but she is also socially awkward and does not at all conform to glamor magazine standards of beauty. Her sister Mako Ikuno is cute, ditzy, and popular. She is also a bit of a slacker, both at home and at work. Each resents the others’ attributes, so they have long waged a cold war of snark and one-upmanship. Their latest battle will be fought over an unlikely prize: their regular sub-contracting customer, nebbish Kazunari Kanayama.

Initially, Kanayama can’t even recognize the interest directed at him. Of course, he has long carried a torch for Mako, so it is no contest once she makes her overtures sufficiently obvious. Unfortunately, she is a poor winner, who does everything possible to stoke her sister’s jealousy. Kanayama also has a hard time enjoying the moment, due to the angst caused by his bullying brother Takuji, an ex-con recently released from prison.

Thicker is absolutely not saccharine or sentimental, so it is nothing like a Japanese cousin to the old Sela Ward Sisters TV show. The sibling relationships in this film are already badly damaged and they are only getting worse. Honestly, it is not at all certain whether they will be able to patch up their differences.

In her film debut, manzai stand-up comic Keiko Enoue is an extraordinary discovery as Yuria. She is nakedly vulnerable, but also painfully self-loathing and sometimes downright petty. Honestly, she and Miwako Kakei are perfect together as Ikuno Sisters. Sometimes they make us feel for them acutely, while other times we are appalled by their behavior, but they always come across as real characters grounded in real-life, who inspire strong emotional reactions.

On the other hand, Masataka Kubota (whose sad sack eyes are getting him type-cast in films like Tokyo Ghoul) is such a doormat as Kanayama, it is hard to get how either sister would be interested in him. However, Hirofumi Arai takes the thuggish Takuji in some unexpectedly interesting directions.

This is a quiet, unassuming film, but it is often brutally honest. In many ways, it serves as a contrary corrective to genteel Japanese domestic dramas from the likes of Yoji Yamada and going all the way back to Yasujiro Shimazu, but it still demonstrates the Japanese film industry’s continued mastery of the genre. Recommended for viewing with friends rather than family, Thicker Than Water screens tomorrow afternoon (7/28), at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: Outrage Coda

Otomo is tan, rested, and ready. His recent time on Jeju Island has been restorative, but he will swing back into action when an up-and-coming yakuza misbehaves in a hotel controlled by his protector. The Yakuza factions will double-cross each other every chance they get, but they cannot possibly contain the chaos let loose by Otomo in Takeshi Kitano’s Outrage Coda (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

After beating up two prostitutes who balked at his S&M games, the arrogant Hanada demanded an apology from their organization. Instead, he gets a humiliating dressing-down from Otomo. Hanada even agrees to pay restitution, but he kills Otomo’s bag man on the way out of the country. This does not sit well with Otomo’s new boss, Chang, the politically connected leader of a Korean syndicate that also has operations in Japan. When Hanada’s belated attempt to apologize backfires, Otomo is given the unspoken go-ahead to extract some old school payback.

Since a crisis is also an opportunity, etc., etc., an old school gangster faction within Hanada’s Hanabishi-kai schemes to exploit the brewing conflict with Chang to oust their current president, Nomura, a former financier who did not come up through the yakuza ranks. Of course, while he’s at it, Otomo would also like some payback for his lieutenants who were killed in the previous film.

As director, screenwriter, and lead actor, Takeshi Kitano/Beat Takeshi totally delivers the gangster beatdown goods, once again. Coda is nearly as good as the original Outrage and considerably superior to the still-pretty-good Beyond. In some ways, Coda feels like Kitano’s summation film, sort of like a yakuza Harry Brown or Gran Torino, but Kitano and Otomo apologize for nothing. They might be grizzled and world-weary, but they still have work to do—and if you’re part of it, then woe unto you.

As Otomo, Takeshi the thesp always tacked an ultra-cool, understated approach, but he pares his performance down even further this time around, like a minimalist yakuza Mad Max. However, when he has something to say, it is usually very funny, in a stone-cold kind of way. Kitano also has the support of a small army of colorful supporting players, such as Toshiyuki Nishida as the opportunistic but high-strung underboss Nishino and Pierre Taki as the thuggish Hanada.

For fans of the previous Outrage films, Coda will at least meet and most likely exceed their expectations, which is saying something. It is a fitting conclusion to Otomo’s grand story that has a puncher’s chance of becoming Kitano’s definitive film. It is also a ripping good time at the movies. Very highly recommended, Outrage Coda screens Saturday (7/28) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: Radiance

In the case of Naomi Kawase’s films, it would be particularly difficult to write audio descriptions for visually impaired patrons, because of the delicate way she employs light. She probably understands this, because she obviously invites sympathy for Misako Ozaki, who is writing a descriptive script for a slightly less arty but still demanding film coming soon to Japanese theaters. Unfortunately, she has a harsh critic in her focus group, who also happens to be partially sighted. Yet, they will make a connection, at least to some extent, in Kawase’s Radiance (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Most of Ozaki’s beta testers are supportive, but not Masaya Nakamori. Initially, his criticism stings, but she soon learns he has good reason for his bitterness. Nakamori was an internationally renowned photographer, but his degenerative condition has forced him to give up his passion and vocation. Similarly, Ozaki is not the shallow young thing Nakamori presumes her to be. She is dealing with some pretty heavy issues of her own, including the recent death of her father and her mother’s progressive dementia.

So maybe they can forge something between a friendship and a romance, at least for a short period. In any event, it will not be the Nicolas Sparks style romance the international one-sheets clearly promise. Kawase does not do conventional romance, but issues of communication, perception, and aging are all in her power zone.

Without question, Sweet Bean is and will probably always be Kawase’s most commercial film, by a country mile. Still, Radiance is more accessible than representative works like Still the Waters or Mourning Forest. In many ways, it is a film lover’s film. In fact, it intriguingly suggests Ozaki’s focus group members effectively experience the same film new several times over, because her evolving approach to the descriptive script makes it something different each time. There is something provocative in that notion that we wish Kawase has devoted even more time to flesh out.

Nevertheless, Ayame Misaki, previously best known for franchises like Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters and Attack on Titan, is a genuine revelation as Ozaki. She is exquisitely expressive and sensitive, but also remarkably disciplined. In short, she is perfect for a Kawase film. Masatoshi Nagase (who was so quietly perfect in Sweet Bean) literally rages against the dying of the light as Nakamori, in an acutely human kind of way. Tatsuya Fuji also adds some wry seasoning as the director and lead actor of the film Ozaki is laboring to describe.

Radiance is not for short-attention-span lowest common denominator viewers, but it is a good film, with a heart and a brain. It not only makes us examine how we perceive the world, it also challenges us to reconsider the very act of perceiving. It is hard to put you finger on, but there is something like the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle going on in this film. There is also some very emotionally raw drama. Recommended for mature cineastes, Radiance screens tomorrow (7/25) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: We Make Antiques!

The tradition of pottery and ceramics dates back to at least 600 BC in Japan, where it remains a vital and respected medium for contemporary artists. You can see that for yourself from the exhibitions the Ippodo Gallery regularly stages in New York. You won’t come across the work of Sasuke Noda there anytime soon. He had that kind of potential, but he was ruined by an unscrupulous dealer. He now gets by on modest forgery scams, but he has a chance for some Sting-style payback in Masaharu Take’s We Make Antiques! (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Norio Koike is sort of like Lovejoy, but less ethical. Ever since the smalltime dealer was fooled by a forgery foisted on him by Tadayasu Hiwatashi and his dodgy expert authenticator Seiichiro Tanahashi, he forced himself to develop an eye for immediately detecting fakes, regardless of what the provenance might say. Yet, he still fell for Noda’s counterfeit Raku tea bowl.

It turns out Hiwatashi and Tanahashi were also the ones who destroyed Noda’s reputation. Despite their awkward introduction, the two scammers quickly discover they are birds of a feather with mutual enemies. With the older gent’s network and dealer credentials, they can take the con Noda ran on Koike to a much higher level, like something in the neighborhood of 100 million Yen. (Actually, that is a few fingers less than a million dollars US, but it still fills up more than one briefcase.) They just need a more compelling fake Raku bowl.

Yes, the con is on and it is indeed breezy fun. This is an amiable film with some low-key elements of farce. There is some door slamming and hiding under tables, but it never descends into slapstickery. In fact, the film genuinely has a passion for ceramics, which it wants to share. The patrons and staff of the Ippodo would probably get a big kick out of it, but fans of caper movies will also dig the scheming and scamming.

Kiichi Nakai is delightfully roguish as Koike, the charming old rake. Watching him smooth talk his way through the picture is just good clean entertainment. Kuranosuke Sasaki’s Noda is rougher around the edges and more understated, but he nicely compliments Nakai. Kogan Ashiya and Masaomi Kondo make appropriately pompous villains, while a veritable rogue’s gallery of character actors add all kinds of color and energy as Koike and Noda’s assorted bunco accessories.

It all goes down easy and even swings, thanks to the jazzy soundtrack composed by Harumi Fuki, including some epic drum solos worthy of Birdman. It is light and breezy, yet Nakai and Fuki still demonstrate virtuoso mastery of their respective crafts. Highly recommended for fans of con artist films, We Make Antiques! screens tomorrow (7/22) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: Dream of Illumination

Remember in the 80s and 90s when Dick Gephart and Pat Choate were warning us the Japanese were going to buy everything in America worth having? Their demagoguery seems ridiculous after two or three Japanese financial crises. In fact, the shoe is on the other foot for residents of Rokujo, who have been forced to sell their land to foreign developers. Noboru Ueda is the broker who has facilitated those transactions. His relationship to the people of the community runs deeper and darker than even they realize, but he will reveal everything to his daughter Nana in Thunder Sawada’s Dream of Illumination (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Ueda will soon transfer back to Tokyo, because he is about to package the last really choice parcel of Rokujo land. However, his daughter Nana has decided to stay on her own to finish her senior year of high school. Ueda is further prompted to reflect on the past when he picks up a former client from the train station. Michiko Kajimoto and her husband gave Ueda his first important sale, but they divorced shortly after they left town. She has now returned to observe an important anniversary with the help of her friend Yuko Ikuda and the former mayor, Tomoharu Miyoshi, both of whom think Ueda is lower than pond scum.

Dream is a quiet, moody film, but Sawada keeps it sharply focused. Each relationship has specific meaning within the context of the narrative. There is a real point to it all, but Sawada reveals it with agonizing deliberation. Still, this is not a shallow Rondo-like attempt to show our inter-connectedness. It is an acutely humanistic examination of modern life, in which good people and decent behavior do not always prosper.

Sara Shida is maybe a year or two older than Nana Ueda would be in this film, but she invests the character with maturity well beyond her years. Frankly it is fascinating to watch her work opposite Yuya Takagawa as her world-weary father. Noboru Ueda is not exactly wracked with guilt, but he carries some heavy, exhausting secrets. It is an artfully nuance performance that invites sympathy for the devil. Maho Yamada is absolutely devastating as Kajimoto, but Elen might just be the real discovery of the film as the forceful but sensitive Ikuda.

Although the predatory land development theme is sure to appeal to a lot of critics’ and distributors’ biases, Dream is too subtle and Spartan to suit their aesthetic tastes. Still, those who appreciate film as an artform should definitely be impressed with Mizuki Nishida’s arresting black-and-white cinematography. Thoughtful cineastes had better see it tomorrow, because it is not the kind of film that will come back around many more times. Recommended accordingly, Dream of Illumination screens Saturday afternoon (7/21) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: Born Bone Born

Technically, Okinawa is still part of Japan, but you might understandably start to doubt that on the remote island of Aguni. The bone washing ritual called senkotsu would be one reason why (it is what it sounds like). Four years after the death of their mother, a wildly dysfunctional family reunites to literally wash her bones and pick bones of their own in Toshiyuki Teruya (a.k.a. Gori)’s Born Bone Born (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Since Emiko died, her husband Nobutsuna has become a sad drunk. Their grown son Tsuyoshi bitterly resents being the responsible one, who paid off the family debts. Responsibility has never been his sister Yuko’s strong suit, but when she shows up in an advanced stage of pregnancy with no husband in tow, it totally scandalizes the island. Fortunately, matronly Aunt Nobuko can put gossips in their place, right quick.

Obviously, the awkward homecoming will crescendo during the senkotsu ceremony. In the meantime, the family will air all their grievances, but frankly, they probably need to get everything out in the open before they can start to heal. In fact, their family actually stands to grow, between Yuko’s baby and her lover, who has no idea what kind of buzz saw he is walking into when he follows her out to Aguni.

BBB is a lovely little film that is not unlike Kore-eda’s Still Walking (which also screens at this year’s Japan Cuts, in honor of its 10^th anniversary), both in terms of theme and tone, but Teruya/Gori finds considerably more humor in family angst. In fact, the humor nicely counterbalances the sentimentalism of it all.

The ensemble also shows great range and flexibility. Just when they seem to settle into their assigned roles, Ayame Misaki as Yuko, the flaky one; Eiji Okuda as Nobutsuna, the depressive one; and Michitaka Tsutsui as Tsuyoshi, the judgmental one; they start to mellow and evolve.

Aguni makes quite a picturesque backdrop, where it looks like time stands still (which it actually does, according to one character). Kazuya Sahara and Koja Misako also penned a beautifully evocative minimalist soundtrack that also compares favorably with GONTITI’s music for Still Walking. Once again, Teruya proves nobody does domestic drama and dramedy better than Japan—or in this case, Okinawa. Highly recommended for discerning adult viewers, Born Bone Born screens tomorrow at noon (7/21) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: Violence Voyager

As a blond American boy, Bobby already stood out in rural Japan, even before he got trapped in a sinister amusement park of body horror. Even if it were called Cronenberg Gardens, it still wouldn’t give fair warning of the heinous crimes against nature that happen there. There will be a lot of mutated kids in Ujicha’s unbelievably weird cut-out “geki-mation” animated feature Violence Voyager (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Bobby and his pal Akkun want to visit a former schoolmate who moved to the other side of the mountain, so they head off along a sketchy trail, despite the warnings of responsible adults, like the hermit, Old Man Lucky-Monkey. Alas, they take a fateful detour when they start following the faded signs for the mysterious amusement park, Violence Voyager. Although the park looks abandoned, it is still functioning and the proprietor will even let them in for free.

Initially, they enjoy the role-playing adventure of fighting mutant cyborgs until it gets totally and painfully real. Soon, they connect with other young survivors, some of whom have been badly disfigured by the robot monsters’ noxious secretions. Eventually they learn (the hard way) the real purpose of the park is to either use them as food or convert them into more distorted cyborg creatures.

There are probably more dead or deformed children in VV than any other animated film in the history of recorded civilization, but as the old saying goes: “you can’t make an omelet, without breaking a few twelve-year-olds.” In fact, Ujicha gleefully revels in gore, bad taste, and disregard for propriety. It is so over the top, you cannot take it too seriously. Yet, there is something about the Violence Voyager park that hits us on an archetypal meadow, like it could be nestled in the Hudson Valley of one of Washington Irving’s tales, albeit one that was warmed up in Hell and drizzled with viscous bodily fluids.

Regardless of taste, you have to give Ujicha credit for being the contemporary master of geki-mation—a form of cut-out animation that also utilizes zooms and pan-and-scans for effect, as well as some highly practical effects, like blood and slime. He is sort of like Lotte Reiniger crossed with Tom Six. It sounds crazy, because it is, but there is still something indescribably unsettling about his figures.

Pound for pound, Ujicha’s previous film, Burning Buddha Man was probably more bizarre, but VV will burrow deeper under viewers’ skin, because it is a lot like seeing the kids from Stranger Things get deposited into the Cabin Fever franchise. It’s not for everyone. Frankly, it is the sort of film that separates real cult cineastes from the pretenders. However, if you want to see something truly deranged, it is all that and then some. Recommended accordingly, Violence Voyager screens Friday night (7/20) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Japan Cuts ’18: blank 13

If you want to learn a little about the cremation process and have a good cry, then Takumi Saito is your man. The actor’s directorial debut could serve as a graceful coda to the Oscar-winning Departures. Thirteen years after abandoning his wife and two sons, Masato Matsuda dies of cancer. The two brothers grew up bitterly resenting their absent father, but they are shocked to learn how he touched the lives of others during his funeral in Saito’s blank 13 (trailer here), which screens as a selection of the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Matsuda was a degenerate gambler who only ever brought home debt-collectors. However, he managed to eke out a few bonding moments with his younger son Koji over baseball. That is why Koji is the only one who tries to reconnect with Masato when the family hears of his cancer diagnosis. The effort is awkward and ultimately inconclusive.

Nevertheless, the Matsuda Brothers resolve to do their duty at the funeral, but for a while it looks like only Koji’s girlfriend Saori Nishida will be there for moral support. Yet, to their surprise, a Runyonesque assortment of gamblers, bar-workers, and nocturnal dwellers coalesces to paint a picture of their father as the salt of the earth.

Comparisons with Departures will be inevitable, but blank 13 has considerably more humor. There are a number of eccentric and ribald reminiscences at the funeral, but the tonal shift is never as drastic as it sounds. Even at its most outrageous, the film maintains a wistful melancholy. 

Lily Franky is perfectly cast as the sad-eyed but ultimately inscrutable Matsuda. Misuzu Kanno is quietly devastating as Hiroko, while Issei Takahashi openly expresses the pain and confusion Koji never really got over. Initially, Saito seems to have assigned himself a one-note role playing the bitter older brother, Yoshiyuki Matsuda, but he really lowers the emotional boom down the stretch. Plus, about half a dozen Japanese character actors of varying degrees of recognizability combine to a create truly distinctive mosaic portrait of the dearly departed, sort of led by a game Jiro Sato as the unlikely impromptu master of ceremonies.

To its credit, blank 13 does not try to answer every question about Matsuda’s dubious behavior, but it is still wholly satisfying. In fact, this is exactly the sort of foreign film that can go mainstream, even with its relatively short seventy-minute running time. It is a wonderfully humanistic film, but if you want to see it at Japan Cuts, you will have to fly stand-by. Enthusiastically recommended, blank 13 screens this Friday (7/20), at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.