NYAFF ’15: Taksu

Bali is renowned for its Gamelan music and—at least in animal rights circles—notorious for its cockfights. Yuri will watch both sorts of performances on her trip. The former is much more fun, but the latter will resonate more with her, given her husband Chihiro’s terminal illness. Death will never be far from their thoughts in Kiki Sugino’s Taksu (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 New York Asian Film Festival.

Already the darling of the Pan-Asian indie scene, Taksu was technically Kiki Sugino’s second film as a director, but it hit the international festival circuit just before her first premiered—with a third soon to follow. Fortunately, she also still performs as a screen thesp. After all, she is Kiki Sugino. Shrewdly, she cast herself in a major supporting role in Taksu, but it is former sex symbol Yoko Mitsuya who is asked to do the film’s heaviest lifting and rises to the occasion quite admirably.

The details are sketchy, but the words “failed transplant” says enough. Frankly, Chihiro looks done in when he and Yuri arrive in Bali. This will probably be the last time he sees his extremely pregnant sister Kumi and her Dutch husband Luke. That is a distressing fact, but they obviously have pressing issues of their own to deal with.

It is not exactly clear which stage of grief Chihiro and Yuri are on, but they are not in synch. They are both pretty freaked out, but he frequently lashes out at his naturally reserved wife, accusing her of complacency. In contrast, Yuri is profoundly exhausted and feels guilt about everything. After one of their dust-ups, she walks away, falling in with a group of Japanese expats and their beach gigolo pal, who represents the sort of commitment free indulgence she has not experienced in some time.

There is no question Taksu will lead to more directing gigs for Sugino. It is a gorgeous looking movie, rich with sunsets and Balinese ceremonial color. It positions her as the logical successor to Cannes-favorite Naomi Kawase. That is either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on how you feel about Kawase’s contemplative films (for the record, Still the Water is considerably better than you may have heard). Sugino also takes an unhurried approach, but she burrows deeply into the psyches of Yuri and Chihiro.

Frankly, she leaves us hanging at the end, expecting a final profundity that never comes. However, for connoisseurs of slow cinema, that is a minor quibble. On the other hand, this is obviously a tough go for crass mainstream movie audiences. Still, it does have Sugino. At the risk of sounding totally fannish, she is wonderfully expressive and aptly radiant as the super-prego Kumi. The sex scenes are all Mitsuya’s though. They are erotically charged but not exploitative. In fact, they are part-and-parcel of her inner emotional struggle. It is a powerful performance, reminiscent of some of the mature milestones of 1970s cinema that may well shock her fans.

There is indeed a good deal of sex in Taksu, but it often goes together with death. The entire cycle of life is represented in the film, as well as a nice armchair tour of Balinese cultural attractions. Sugino knew exactly what she wanted and executed the film accordingly. Nevertheless, it would not betray her aesthetic sensibilities to give her narratives more muscular definition in the future. Still, it is achingly beautiful visually and the drama is quite sensitively rendered. Recommended for slow cineastes and Sugino fans, Taksu screens this Thursday (7/2) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’14: Au Revoir L’été

Koji Fukada, the acclaimed Hospitalite helmer, obviously digs French titles. However, teenage Sakuko’s experiences are distinctly Japanese. She will spend her summer vacation flirting with a Fukushima evacuee and studying for her university exams (supposedly). Yet, Fukada’s themes and vibe consciously pay homage to Eric Rohmer’s beach movies. For ten days, Sakuko will slyly observe and cautiously interact with the small seaside community in Fukada’s Au Revoir L’été (trailer here), which screens during the 2014 New York Film Festival.

Sakuko’s family takes a bit of explaining, even for her. Her Aunt Mikie has the same name as her mother, because they are step-sisters. While Aunt Mikie’s full sister is off touring Europe, they will house-sit her peaceful Rohmeresque home. Thus far, Sakuko has been something of an academic underachiever, so it is presumably hoped Aunt Mikie, an accomplished ethnologist specializing in Indonesian culture, will be a good influence on her.

Smart, attractive, and single, Aunt Mikie is indeed quite the role model, who attracts ex-lovers like a magnetic. First, it is Ukichi, the former village rogue, who has settled into a responsible job at the local love hotel to pay his daughter Tatsuko’s college tuition. He has also taken in his nephew Takashi, finding him work at the hotel, despite his minor status.

Eventually, Nishida also arrives for a guest lectureship at Tatsuko’s school, solely in hopes of picking up with Aunt Mikie again. However, she has clearly grown tired of the arrogant married man. She seems to prefer Ukichi’s earthy company, while Sakuko is similarly interested in Takashi. Yet, just as in Rohmer’s A Summer’s Tale, the timing for young whatever-it-might-be is always problematic.

It is almost bizarre how much Au Revoir looks like a mid-1980s Rohmer film, right down to the TV-ish aspect ratio. It shares a similarly pedestrian look and even obsessively marks the passing of each day with retro graphics. Of course, in each case the surface gloss is immaterial. It is the gentle depiction of human messiness that drives the films.

NYAFF’s 2014 Screen International Rising Star Award winner Fumi Nikaido gives a wonderfully natural performance as Sakuko. Remarkably subtle, she ranks as a worthy successor to Amanda Langlet in Pauline at the Beach and Summer’s Tale. Nevertheless, Mayu Tsuruta’s Aunt Mikie outshines everyone, making intelligence and maturity look seductive whenever she is on-screen.

As Takashi, Taiga convinces us boys really do mature slower than girls. So does Kanji Furutachi’s Ukichi, but there some world weary heft to his oddball persona. Producer and Japanese indie star Kiki Sugino also frequently gives the film a kick with her verve and attitude as Tatsuko.

Again, like Rohmer’s films, Au Revoir is deceptively light and talky. Yet, when viewers think back on it, they will have sense memories of those ten days in the summer house. Still, Fukada gives the master’s formula enough of a contemporary Japanese spin to make it feel like its own animal. Recommended for fans of chamber dramas and understated coming of age stories, Au Revoir L’été screens tomorrow (7/8) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

Tribeca ’13: Odayaka

Judging solely on the American drive-by media’s coverage, one would assume Japan was nothing but a glowing wasteland after the March 11^th earthquake and subsequent nuclear emergency.  In contrast, the Japanese media was evidently restrained to a fault, leaving a vacuum for rumor, fear, and denial to run rampant. Rather than the all too familiar images of devastation, Nobuteru Uchida focuses on the messy uncertainties of the aftermath in Odayaka (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival.

When the quake hit, Saeko’s husband Noboru was typically nowhere to be found.  When he finally shows up, it is only to announce he is abandoning her and their daughter Kiyomi.  Next door, Yukako’s husband Tatsuya also arrives well after the fact, having been toiling in his office, as per usual.  Despite the government’s unconvincing assurances, both women become deeply concerned about Fukushima’s radiation.  As neighbors and acquaintances belittle their worries, Saeko and Yukako agitation steadily increases.  Saeko’s stress is understandably amplified by her husband’s desertion.  Likewise, a recent painful episode Yukako and Tatsuya never properly dealt with acerbates her anxiety.

Filmed in a deliberately lo-fi, no frills style, Odayaka’s “you are there” vibe is often genuinely uncomfortable to experience.  This is no canned made-for-TV movie building to a cheap triumph over adversity.  Uchida portrays the emotional damage done to his characters in a relentlessly intimate fashion. Odayaka is a quiet film, but it stings.

Nonetheless, along with Chen’s Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow, Odayaka lends this year’s festival some major star power.  It might be hard to believe anyone could walk out on Kiki Sugino, the darling of Japanese indie cinema (often dubbed Japan’s Parker Posey), but she is truly devastating as Saeko.  Always convincing and never overly showy, her portrayal of a mother coming apart at the seams is absolutely harrowing.

Likewise, Yukiko Shinohara plums some dark places as the distressed Yukako.  In a way, it is a much more off-putting part.  However, she truly lowers the film’s dramatic boom in key sequences down the stretch.  Ami Watanabe’s Kiyoshi is also remarkably affecting and natural in scenes that might well be confusing for a young child.  Indeed, Odayaka boasts a strong supporting cast from stem to stern, especially Makiko Watanabe, who becomes the face of rigid Japanese social conformity as the queen bee mother at Kiyoshi’s nursery school.

Odayaka is packed with scenes that resonate acutely.  When Uchida holds up a mirror to Japanese society, it is not always pretty.  Yet, Odayaka is a profoundly humanistic film, anchored by Sugino’s unforgettable work.  Recommended for those who appreciate a tough human drama, Odayaka screens today (4/18), this Saturday (4/20), Wednesday (4/24), and next Saturday (4/27) as a Viewpoints selection of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

KAFFNY ’12: Magic and Loss

Kiki Sugino could be considered Asia’s Parker Posey.  As an actress and producer, she has helped get numerous indie films off the ground in several countries.  Though her career is still young, she has already been the focus of a mini-retrospective at the most recent Tokyo Film Festival.  New Yorkers will have the chance to see some of Sugino’s indiest work in Lim Kah Wai’s Magic and Loss (trailer here), which screens as part of the 2012 Korean American Film Festival New York’s opening night double feature.

Two women have come to a picturesque Mui Wo beach resort that looks like it could have been inspired by Patrick McGoohan’s The Prisoner.  The sign at the registration desk says “full,” but there do not seem to be any other guests besides Kiki and Kkobbi—and they both have coupons.  However, since the bellhop seems to be the only employee, overhead must be low.  He is quite solicitous of Kkobbi, knowing she is Korean, but his reception is less gracious for Kiki after learning she is Japanese.  Playing her namesake, Kiki Sugino’s well known Zainichi Korean heritage (a native born Japanese citizen of Korean descent) might indeed be significant to international audiences watching M&L.

Kiki and Kkobbi become fast friends, or so it seems.  Frankly, the latter’s attitude appears ambiguous to say the least.  Nonetheless, they explore the natural beauties of the HK island paradise.  Yet, there are hints of something unsettling, in addition to the generous servings of sexual tension.

M&L is not the sort of film to put all its cards on the table.  After all, that would be telling.  It is perfectly content to leave viewers in a state of unresolved ambiguity (only heightened by the post-credits stinger).  Yet, for hardy cineastes, it is still quite watchable thanks to the combination of the pleasant scenery, the wonderfully expressive (and cute) Sugino, and the attractive Kim Kkobbi.

Though Lim tries not to overdo the Lychian excesses, M&L seems to parallel Mulholland Drive in several respects.  There is certainly an ominous vibe to the proceedings, despite the sun and surf.  In fact, he creates quite an effective atmosphere of mystery, but the drama (unfolding through largely improvised dialogue) is frustratingly ill-defined.  Really, would it have killed anyone to give us a few more concrete narrative hooks to hold onto?

Regardless, for hardcore film students, M&L offers plenty to debate. Its plethora of multi-multi-hyphenating (directed by the Malaysian-Chinese Lim and co-produced and co-starring the Korean-Japanese Sugino) also makes it quite the fitting selection for KAFFNY.  Make no mistake, it is a serious film, requiring serious patience.  Recommended for rabid Lynch cult-followers and admirers of Sugino’s work, Magic and Loss screens tomorrow night (6/5) and Saturday afternoon (6/9), when this year’s Korean American Film Festival New York opens at the Anthology Film Archives.