Categories
drama, melodrama gendai-geki romance

The Innocence of First Love

Shinjo Takehiko’s Heavenly Forest (Tada, Kimi wo Aishiteru, 2006; literal translation: Just Loving You) is a romance drama based on Ichikawa Takuji’s novel, Renai Shashin: Mouhitotsu no Monogatari. Set in modern-day Japan, it follows the lives of two university students, Satonaka Shizuru (Miyazaki Aoi) and Segawa Makoto (Tamaki Hiroshi), as they learn about life and love. The film is a tribute to the innocence of first love. Shinjo combines excellent cinematography and pure, honest characterization to show the beautiful but bittersweet relationship that forms between the two characters.

The movie begins with Makoto, a professional photographer, searching for Shizuru in New York. One month earlier, he had received a letter from Shizuru informing him that she will have a photo exhibition on display during Christmas. It is the first time he has heard from her since her sudden disappearance two years ago. As Makoto makes his way through New York City, he reminisces back to the day they first met and how their relationship has changed him. Makoto has an inferiority complex, and therefore tends to avoid contact with other people. However, on the day of his university entrance ceremony, he meets Shizuru, an eccentric and overly optimistic girl. Through her persistence, he opens up to her and gains the confidence to interact with other students. As their friendship grows, Shizuru begins to develop feelings for Makoto. However, he has feelings for the beautiful and popular Miyuki (Kuroki Meisa). Despite knowing this, Shizuru encourages him to pursue her. As the years pass, the three of them form a close friendship, and they soon find themselves close to graduation. However, Shizuru’s feelings for Makoto have not changed. But one day, she disappears without notice, leaving behind only a short note expressing her gratitude.

There are two central themes in Tada, Kimi wo Aishiteru. The primary theme of innocence has a notable presence throughout the film. It is most strongly represented through the characterization of Shizuru. She resembles a child in both physical appearance and in the outward display of her behaviour. Her tiny frame coupled with her oversized, simple clothing triggers a childlike image in the minds of the audience. She is also refreshingly honest and cheerful. Shizuru is a carefree, spirited young girl who has not yet grown out of her childhood. The secondary theme revolves around growing up. Shizuru has always been discontented with her childlike physical appearance. But when she discovers that Makoto harbours feelings for Miyuki, she becomes further unsatisfied with her body. Shizuru’s desire to become like an adult is linked to her feelings for Makoto. She hopes that by growing up, he will recognize her as a mature, young woman. The film is driven by the interaction of these two themes. Although they appear to contrast with each other from an outside perspective, Shinjo weaves them together so that one complements the other. Shizuru, who is caught in between reality and what she desires, must find a solution for herself. Likewise, the film manages to find a proper balance in showcasing the two themes.

Captivating and beautiful imagery is used to capture the audience’s attention. Shinjo creates a warm and peaceful atmosphere by incorporating many scenic shots of nature and the city. Some of the most stunning scenes are those of the forest behind the university campus. The forest is a special place for Shizuru and Makoto: it symbolizes the day they first met, and it is also their sanctuary. It’s where they spend many hours together taking photos and enjoying each other’s company. Thus, to signify the importance of that place, the scenes in the forest contain a different kind of energy. Colours are especially vibrant, and a quality of perfection is projected through to the audience. Shinjo maximizes the lighting to his advantage in producing these picturesque shots. At times, the lighting in the forest creates a hazy glow, which gives a dreamlike quality to the scene. This reinforces the theme of innocence that accompanies a first love. Shinjo goes to great lengths to capture the best scenic shots with the best lighting. This, combined with the slow pacing and excellent cinematography, contribute to the realism in the film.

Tada, Kimi wo Aishiteru is a wonderful film that people of all ages can enjoy. Viewers will be drawn in by the bittersweet love story of two young people as they watch an innocent love unfold before them. In addition, the audience will be able to feel the raw intensity of emotions felt by Shizuru and Makoto as they encounter many obstacles. Shinjo’s direction of the film leads to a creation that is both pure and realistic, and it is this sense of realism that makes this film so captivating.

Categories
anime science-fiction

Oshii Mamoru’s “Ghost in the Shell”

Otherwise known in its native Japanese as Kōkaku Kidotai, Ghost in the Shell is a critically acclaimed, stylistically significant, and intellectually profound animated masterpiece that goes above and beyond the typical thematic and stylistic constraints traditionally placed on animated formats.  Directed by the esteemed Oshii Mamoru and based on Shirow Masamune’s comic-book conceptions, this film was released in November, 1995.  This film is applauded by critics as one of the first animated works to reach a high level of literary and visual excellence.  Firmly entrenched in a dark cyberpunk science fiction genre populated by other outstanding works such as Blade Runner, The Matrix, and Neuromancer, Ghost in the Shell – like its progenitors and associates – enlists the assistance of a deep philosophical reexamination of deeply held perceptions of reality and existence.  What is it that makes oneself real?  How far can one stretch the definition of life-forms with regards towards a society fast embracing the existence of increasingly intelligent artificial intelligences?  Ghost in the Shell embraces these questions and never provides any real answers; the answers, this film holds, are deeply convoluted and complex – problems that become exponentially more complex the more technologically invested a given society becomes.  Indeed, this film pulls itself into the ranks of previously mentioned greats such as the aforementioned Blade Runner due to a focus not just on the exultation of a certain dystopian future, but rather, the implications of such a future: a future more likely with each passing day and technological development.

Ghost in the Shell presents itself as a science-fiction exposition from the onset through an opening sequence that lays down the groundwork for the legal (or rather, extralegal) status and authority of “Section 9”, a 2029 AD amalgamation of Special Forces and cybercrime professionals.  The movie opens through a cold-open sequence, elapsing four minutes, displaying the technological advancements a future society might possess, e.g. cyberbrain augmentations, thermo-optic camouflage, the cyborgization of the human body (in extreme cases, full-body cyborgization), and augmented reality systems.  In addition, this sequence fully demonstrates the extralegal capacity that “Section 9” possesses, and indeed, executes with the utmost precision and efficiency.  What follows is a sequence illustrating the formative and industrial capacity of this future world, creating something as complex as Kusanagi Motoko’s (the female Section 9 agent) cyborg body with apparent ease.

What follows is a plot centered on the political intrigue of governmental agencies and industrial espionage, and the unforeseen implications of technology that practitioners do not truly understand.  Tied initially to a case in which a “Puppet Master” is found to be “ghost-hacking” civilians and governmental officials to carry out terrorist acts, Section 9 finds themselves being drawn increasingly into a conflict where they deal with both this insurgent and a rogue “Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA),” who on parallel missions are trying desperately to contain this malevolent force.  This set of events leads to the suspected presence, or as Section 9 later finds out, the manifestation of a “ghost,” i.e. a term equivalent to that of a human soul in common vernacular.  As the film elaborates, this “ghost” is no mere artificial intelligence, but rather, the birthing of a self-aware entity born not out of intended invention, but rather spontaneous development.  The film climaxes with Section 6 orchestrating the abduction of the newly acquired “Puppet Master,” henceforth known as “Project 2501,” as he calls himself: a product of the “sea of information” existing in the vast interconnected networks of the future; a spontaneous creation akin to that of the prehistoric Cambrian explosion.  Compelled to preserve his existence and such qualitatively human compellations such as the desire to reproduce, he orchestrated the terrorist events that set in motion the timeline of this film.  Ghost in the Shell culminates in the destruction of “Project 2501” and Motoko’s cyborg body by MFA forces; the concluding scene has Motoko (in a replacement body) looking out over a brightly lit cityscape.

This film deals with a number of complex thematic concepts.  In a world where cyborgization is not only commonplace, but as omnipresent as the cell phones of today, what are the implications of this constant attachment to a collective network?  With the direct implantation and accessibility of such a sea of information, firewalls and layers of protection against intrusion thus become mandatory and indeed, essential towards the preservation of one’s “ghost”.  Otherwise, as shown through the poor garbage-man and incapacitated government official, one becomes vulnerable to malicious attack and “ghost-hacks”: future versions of Trojan viruses and remote-hijacking of the computer systems of today.  In addition, as shown by the garbage-man, being hacked and implanted with false memories challenges the boundaries of reality.  How does one react to an amalgamation of irreversible brainwashing and direct memory manipulation?  If such an event is possible, how would a citizen in the Ghost in the Shell universe know if reality is truth or fiction?  In addition, Ghost in the Shell impels the audience to ask themselves what it is that makes us human.  If Project 2501 was able to declare itself a sentient life-form capable of political asylum, would this ghost-endowed synthetic being be considered more human than someone like Motoko (whose synthetic bodily parts far outnumber the few remaining organic components of her body)?  It is interesting to note that when Section 6 first discovers sentience in Project 2501’s programming, it is regarded as a mere bug, which in retrospect, is a colossal display of both human arrogance and narrow-mindedness.  It is through the investigation of these concepts against a cyberpunk backdrop that Oshii Mamoru and Masamune Shirow take the concepts of artificial intelligence to a new high – beyond the tremblings of sentience present in 2001: A Space Odyssey – in a contextual format that current audiences can understand and appreciate.

Ghost in the Shell, however, is not a film for the uninitiated.  The overly complex dialogue and casual usage of futuristic terms places potential viewers (without prior knowledge of Shirow Masamune’s works) at a definite disadvantage towards the proper comprehension of his stylistic and technological constructs.  However, for those willing to invest the effort into understanding the intricacies of a dystopian (and yet, realistic) cyberpunk world, Ghost in the Shell offers itself as a thematically deep film wrought throughout with philosophical issues on reality and its cohorts, existence and the soul.

Categories
comedy drama, melodrama gendai-geki literary adaptations romance

The Explosion of Otaku Culture in Mainstream Japan

Based on a true story, Densha Otoko is the story of a nerdy and socially awkward man who, through the help of other posters on a forum called 2-Chan, is able to come out of his shell and have a relationship with a beautiful and kind young woman. Densha Otoko, or Train Man, was released in 2005 by Touhou and directed by Murakami Shosuke.  The film stars Yamada Takayuki as the nerdy and socially awkward Densha Otoko, Nakatani Miki as the beautiful and kind Hermes, as well as a group of largely unnamed characters who play the role of posters on the internet forum.  Although the film is often called a romantic comedy, compared to other iterations of the Densha Otoko story, the film contains surprisingly little comedy.

The film starts on a train, as the main character referred to only as Densha Otoko is on his way home from the nerd-mecca of Akihabara.  While on the train, a drunkard is harassing the passengers, including one young woman who had been reading.   Densha Otoko bravely stands up and confronts the passenger, and takes the brunt of his drunken rantings until he’s finally dragged away at the next station.  The young woman, referred to only as Hermes (a high class brand in Japan), asks for his address so she can send a thank you gift.  When Densha Otoko returns home, he quickly logs on to 2-Chan to tell others about his experience on the train, of course using the screen name “Densha Otoko.” A few days pass, and a package containing a tea set with the brand name Hermes comes from the woman, and the outpouring of advice from other posters on 2-Chan convinces him that he should ask her out for lunch to thank her.  Relying on advice from the posters, he continually plans dates and even engages in extensive research to help her buy a computer.  However, before Hermes leaves for a trip to France, there is a problem on their date and when she returns, she seems to be conflicted about seeing him.  The conclusion is truly one to make the viewer think, and the intriguing ending certainly won’t be spoiled here.

The billing as a romantic comedy is certainly a fair genre label, however the film does so much more than simply give a good romance story.  For many, Densha Otoko is their first real exposure to otaku (roughly translated as nerd) culture in Japan.  The film was a big hit with women, many of whom could most likely identify with Hermes in her seeming naivety with regards to that world.  There is a great scene after their first date when they’re going home on the train, where they are both standing near the doors.  The angle of the medium-shot shows the middle of the door directly between the two, as they’re standing at least two feet or so apart.  This spacial division as well as the visual division caused by the vertical black rubber on the inside of the doors is a subtle reminder that the two characters are from completely different worlds.

The character of Densha Otoko is, however, quite a stereotypical otaku, and the film suffers as a result.  With his greasy hair, lack of any noticeable fashion sense, and his impossibly inept social skills, he is the embodiment of what many think of otaku in Japan.  Other characters who are posters on 2-Chan are similarly the stereotypical image of an otaku, and unfortunately the film merely perpetuates this stereotype.  The character development of Densha Otoko is one of a progression from this stereotypical “kimoi” (gross) otaku to a well-dressed and cool-looking man.  In the end, the character of Densha Otoko is really a character to whom not much thought was given, and is nothing more than an amalgamation of various mainstream prejudices pertaining to otaku, ultimately limiting the usefulness of the film as an introduction to otaku culture.

While the film does have its problems with regards to characters and portrayal of otaku, it still stands as a good introduction to otaku culture for those unaware of what it may entail, and is especially useful for learners of Japanese modern culture.  Although I recommend this film, I recommend it with a grain of salt and emphasize that the viewers must also take the film with a grain of salt.  It is, however, at the end of the day, an enjoyable romantic comedy that can appeal to both genders, and has a poignant ending that causes reflection by the viewer as to the nature of human relationships.

Categories
extreme J-horror

Cartoons and Killer Pianos: A Review of “Hausu”

Obayashi Nobuhiko’s Hausu (House, 1977) is an assault on the senses. This is a movie designed to make the viewer say “what the…” Through a twisted plot, a barrage of visual effects and bizarre music choices, Obayashi creates an unforgettable horror film with touches of dark comedy throughout. Naturally the film contains plenty of violence, gore, and some nudity.

The basic plot of the film follows six school girls (Angel, Fantasy, Sweetie, Melody, Kung Fu, and Mac) on their summer vacation trip to the countryside. They plan to stay with Angel’s aunt. When they arrive at the aunt’s house they slowly learn things aren’t quite as they seem and they are one by one eliminated by the haunted house. The plot sounds like standard fare for a horror film. However, there is nothing typical about this film.

One cannot watch the screen for more than five seconds before something strange happens. Shots are often from atypical angles, seen through mirrors, with different coloured tints applied, and/or seen through special lens. The camera rarely stays in one place. Instead it constantly cuts, sometimes to a quick a dream sequence and then right back to the action.

Obayashi is especially creative with the death scenes. Superimposed images and video effects one might find in 1980s music videos are used heavily. Often the “killer” is a piece of furniture which becomes active and violent towards the girls including one memorable scene in which a piano eats Melody. There’s plenty of blood and severed limbs but it’s often not used to scare but for dark humour – a severed head of one of the girls taunts and laughs at another girl.

The characters are all named after their most distinctive traits. For example, Kung Fu is good at fighting and Mac (short for stomach) likes to eat. These extremely one-dimensional characters poke fun at typical horror film characters and are another source of humour for the film. Perhaps the biggest source of humour is the male teacher character Togo. Togo is supposed to join the girls on their trip but gets left behind and is constantly trying to catch up. His character is introduced as the handsome, responsible adult but what the viewer sees is a silly man with goofy sideburns. His scenes are especially cartoony (a trait which could be applied to the whole movie) – he trips downstairs and bounces around, complete with cartoon sound effects.

The music throughout the film complements this cartoon feel and contrasts the violent imagery. The main theme is a catchy, happy-sounding tune, completely atypical for the horror genre. The film also features a corny-sounding vocal pop song which is also unfit for the violence on screen. The main piano theme plays an important role in the plot as it is the song that Melody plays before she is eaten by the piano. The other characters can hear her playing the tune as they walk throughout the house but once she is attacked they start to hear discordant random piano notes. When they return to the piano room, they once again hear the happy piano tune, now being played by Melody`s floating severed fingers. The main theme is also featured in a bizarre duet between the aunt and her cat which is certainly a candidate for the scene least typical of the horror genre. The sound editing, much like the video editing, is maniac and inventive. Often a character`s line will be looped several times or brought back and played over top of a later scene. The effect subverts typical narrative structures and again draws out the cartoon nature of the film.

Obayashi was ahead of his time in his heavy use of effects and cartoonish atmosphere. Similar absurd humour achieved through those means can be seen in contemporary movies such as Kung Fu Hustle (Stephen Chow, 2004) and television such as Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! (2007-present). It`s clear that a lot of effort was put into making this film as fun and bizarre as possible. Hausu is a restless film that simultaneously leaves viewers scared, laughing, and scratching their heads.

Categories
anime

Princess Mononoke

Mononoke-Hime (Princess Mononoke) is an animated fantasy film directed by Miyazaki Hayao of Studio Ghibli in 1997. The story is based on a prince named Ashitaka, who is wounded with a deadly curse while trying to fight off the giant boar demon that was destroying his village. Another important character in the film is San, also known as “Wolf Girl”. She is called “Wolf Girl” because she was raised by the three giant wolves that try to protect the forest from the humans who want to destroy the forest to make charcoal to melt iron. The film may be seem as simply an animated love story between Ashitaka and San for children, but the film is mainly about environmental problems that the people are facing in the world and the troubles it brings.

Prince Ashitaka goes on a journey to the lands of the west in order to find a cure for the deadly curse that was bestowed upon him by the giant boar demon. While his journey, he stops at a village where he meets Jigo, a wandering monk who tells him that the god of the west forest may be able to help him. So Ashitaka stops at a town called Iron Town, which is near the west forest, where he is warmly welcomed by the leader, Lady Eboshi. One night, San comes into the Iron Town in an attempt to kill Lady Eboshi since the people in her town are destroying the forest that San lives in with her wolf family. Ashitaka comes between the two to try and stop the fight by using the special powers that he got from the curse. While carrying San out of the town, Ashitaka is shot. Due to the supernatural powers from the curse, he is able to carry San through the gates, but right after he passes the gates, he loses consciousness. He is then taken to the Forest Spirit, which is said to be able to cure anything. The Forest Spirit heals his gunshot wound but does not get rid of his curse. When Ashitaka wakes up, he works together with San to save the forest from the humans and the boars which have gone crazy.

The animated film is generally known as a metaphor for environmental disaster caused by industrialization. Due to the weapons created by industrialization like guns, destruction is created. For example, the giant boar that casts the curse on Ashitaka turned evil and went crazy because it was wounded with a bullet. If it were not for the bullet, Ashitaka would not have been cursed and his village would not have been attacked. Also, the rapid destruction of the forest is what made the boar god Okkoto angry to the point where he decided to gather up all the boars to attack the humans. Apart from the metaphor for environmental destruction, Princess Mononoke also portrays what greed can do to people. The Forest God is said to give immortality, so everyone tries to get hold of that power. In the film, Jigo is so caught up in the reward that the emperor said he would give him for the Forest God’s head that he keeps it in the box when he knows that he will die if he does not give the head back to the Forest God.

Princess Mononoke may at first seem like a film for children, but it has a deeper meaning to it. It has metaphors for environmental destruction and the harmful disasters that can occur from it. It also gives the idea that if something is not done immediately about the environmental problems, it will cause serious problems. The film also gives out the image that people can co-exist with nature as long as they do not take advantage of the natural resources that nature provides the people with. The movie does not consist of any disturbing scenes except for when people get shot. The way Miyazaki Hayao uses color in the animated film is very beautiful so it does not get tiring and simply watching the different scenes may be enjoyable. Not only the scenery, but the romance between Ashitaka and San is also something to watch.

Categories
comedy drama, melodrama gendai-geki shomin-geki

Train_Man

Train Man (Densha Otoko) (2005) is a romantic drama directed by Murakami Shosuke, and stars Yamada Takayuki as the protagonist (known as Train_Man; his username on the online forums which he frequents and which play a large role in the film), and Nakatani Miki as the love interest (referred to as Hermess, because of a set of Hermès cups she sends as a thank-you gift to Train_Man.)

Purportedly based on a true story, the film follows the protagonist, Train_Man, as he struggles to woo a woman whom he saved from being accosted by a drunkard on a train. Train_Man is an otaku (a Japanese term referring to someone who is an obsessive fan of something, primarily video games, manga, etc) in his early twenties, who has never had a girlfriend and spends his time either at work, where he is a computer engineer, shopping for toys, or at home on the computer. Cripplingly, unbelievably shy, Train_Man attempts to stand up to an intoxicated businessman on the train home one day, and later receives a thank-you gift from the woman the businessman was harassing. He relates the story to his anonymous friends online (anonymous to himself and to each other, but revealed to the audience as being an angsty teenage boy, a possibly early-thirties man, a similarly aged woman, a meek female nurse pining over a lost love, and three more otaku who spend seemingly all of their time in an internet café of some sort, reading comics and playing video games). His friends initially brush it off as a semi-exciting but unimportant encounter, until hearing that the woman has sent Hermès cups, which they unanimously deem “too expensive to be just a thank-you”, and they encourage Train_Man to pursue “Hermess”. What ensues is a haircut and new clothes for Train_Man, and an awkward courtship with Hermess, Train_Man faltering and stumbling and being nervously sweaty every step of the way.

Train Man revolves largely around internet usage, and text plays a huge role throughout the film, as (with the exception of Train_Man and Hermess) the only communication between the main characters is done via typing online. Much of the exposition in the introduction is presented with text appearing in windows and on signs in various shots, as Train_Man narrates and explains who he is. Throughout the film, different words and key points are highlighted through similarly appearing text, or typed emoticons, used commonly in online forums to convey different emotions. In one instance, the climactic and final word of an important line is not even uttered, but is merely shown being typed into an online entry on a computer screen. All of the lines from the characters interacting with each other online are narrated transcripts of their conversation in the forum, and often their text will be shown as they speak as well. When Train_Man’s friends are goading him on as he talks on the phone with Hermess, their encouragement is expressed not through speech, as most of their interactions are presented (though, again, sometimes along with aforementioned text), but through a shot of increasingly large and excited looking words appearing on a forum thread on Train_Man’s nearby computer screen. This shot may just be a simple a point of view shot from Train_Man’s perspective–this is, after all, what he really is looking at as he speaks to Hermess on the phone–but it is also a representation of his team of friends as the single, intangible, anonymous entity that they are. The rest of their interactions are generally shown with more typically film-appropriate dialogue: talking and shots of their faces­ (even if the other participants in the conversation don’t see or hear them) but this is possibly the only instance in which the characters are shown as only text on a screen, as they would appear to each other.

Another large theme of the movie, which again ties back into internet usage and culture, is reliability vs. reliance. Train_Man’s network of friends help and encourage him the whole way through, giving him advice and collaborating to plan his dates for him, but the line is blurred between being a help or a hindrance when he is unable to do anything without them. As they are so beneficial in the organization of the dates, Train_Man comes to depend on them, and when a snag in the plans is inevitably hit, he isn’t confident enough to act on his own to improvise a new one, and abandons Hermess in the middle of a date to go online and ask for help, which, unsurprisingly, does not end well. By the end of the film, his internet friends are still presented as a positive influence in his life, and a good support group, but the point seems to be made that moving on and pursuing more interactions in real life might be better. All of the characters involved in the online forum have their own private issues hinted at, which cause them all to become somewhat reclusive and which have brought them online in the first place. The three otaku in the internet café all cry together over never having had a girlfriend themselves, the reclusive and angsty boy won’t eat or seemingly even venture outside his room. The final message seems to be an encouragement for people to wean themselves off of reliance on anonymous chat rooms, etc for social interaction, but the film in no way discourages it completely, and the friendships Train_Man makes online are still represented as positive and meaningful.

As the world progresses technologically and online interactions hold increasing importance, the way we think of friendship, of love, of communication, of people, will have to be reconsidered. Train Man is a bit cheesy at times and a bit cliché at others, but is still overall an interesting attempt to address the complex societal structures and relationships of the next (digital) generation.

Categories
chambara/chanbara drama, melodrama jidai-geki

The Twilight Dad or The Twilight Warrior?: Multiple Obligations of a Widowed Samurai

The Twilight Samurai or Tasogare Seibei was directed by Yamada Yôji and was released in 2002. The main character Iguchi Seibei is played by Sanada Hiroyuki, who has also starred in other big blockbusters such as The Last Samurai and Rush Hour 3. The genre of the film is jidai-geki.

Twilight Samurai is a film that is set in the Meiji era and centers on the life of Iguchi Seibei, who is a low-ranking samurai. Seibei’s story is told through the perspective of his youngest daughter who is reflecting on her memories of her father when she was a five-year-old child. The memories focus on Seibei’s daily problems as a recent widower who struggles to support his family of two daughters and a senile mother. In order to provide for his family, Seibei neglects his appearance and starts smelling foul which causes him to run into trouble; his foul-smelling odour is noticed by the head of his clan and is seen as horribly dishonourable. Being a tight-knit clan, gossip travels fast and soon his uncle shows up to visit, offering him a marriage proposal in order help him with household chores so he can focus on his samurai duties. Seibei turns down the offer as he prefers to do the household chores in order to stay home and watch his daughters grow up.

Seibei’s daily life continues to be a struggle between his samurai obligations and family chores until his childhood friend and crush, Linuma Tomoe, returns home from an abusive, alcoholic relationship. Tomoe notices Seibei’s troubling situation and helps him by taking care of his daughters and assisting with their chores. One night as Seibei is walking Tomoe home, trouble ensues when Tomoe’s abusive alcoholic ex-husband, Koda, arrives to stir up trouble. Seibei defends Tomoe and offers to duel Koda when he is not intoxicated. They agree to fight the next morning and Seibei shows up to the challenge with a practice wooden stick while Koda uses a metal sword. Seibei’s combat abilities are evident as he defeats Koda with a practice stick and leaves him with a massive lump on his head.

Having heard of Seibei’s unique abilities, the head of the clan summons Seibei and orders him to kill a samurai retainer, Yogo Zenemon, who refused to commit seppuku when commanded. Seibei is forced to accept the endeavor and starts to prepare for his mission; however, he finds himself at a loss when he is unable to prepare in the customary samurai attire without help. Seibei reluctantly turns to Tomoe and requests for her assistance. Before he leaves on his dangerous mission, Seibei tells Tomoe he regrets turning down marrying her, and that if he returns from his assignment, he would like to marry her.

On the surface the main character, Seibei, seems like a simple samurai character, a low-ranking widowed samurai that struggles to balance his samurai duties and keep his family afloat; however, Seibei is actually quite complex. He is a character that struggles against his low-ranking samurai status and is limited by what the society expects of him. Seibei is affected by societal norms as his uncle believes that acquiring a new wife would allow him focus on his samurai duties and maintain his personal appearance; furthermore, his uncle argues that it would prevent Seibei from dishonouring the head of the clan a second time or bring any more disgrace to their family name. His uncle’s concerns are clearly not for the family’s well-being but are expectations of the society. However, Seibei is a not a simple character. He does not conform to societal norms, but rejects his uncle’s persistent offer, stating that if he was allowed to he would rather become a farmer and give up his samurai status because he enjoys watching his two girls grow up.

Not only is Seibei constrained by society’s expectations but he is also tied to his samurai obligations. When Seibei is summoned to kill Zenemon by the head of the clan, Seibei politely declines the offer and states that due to years of hardship he has become accustomed to manual labour work and lost his ferocity and willingness to kill. However the clan finds the refusal hard to accept and forces Seibei to accept the mission. Although Seibei lives in poverty and his life is the opposite from what someone with a samurai status should live like, Seibei is bound to his samurai status even though he is of the lowest rank. Seibei must risk leaving his two daughters and senile mother behind who are extremely dependent on him because he has an obligation as a samurai to serve their clan.

Set design and costume design in The Twilight Samurai emphasize the distinction between social classes. When Seibei is fighting Koda, the scene is set outside castle walls and a clear distinction between the samurai and peasant class can be observed. A high concrete wall binds the samurai class within and separates them from the outside peasant hierarchy. Furthermore, inside the castle walls the set is designed as a small village to give the idea of a closely knit society; whereas outside the castle walls it is littered with trees and nature giving it a wild atmosphere. Social hierarchy is not only differentiated by the samurai or peasant class, but within the samurai class there is also a distinction between the low-ranking samurai and the high-ranking samurai. Costume design emphasizes this differentiation as Seibei’s low-ranking status is characterized by his shabby and bedraggled attire. His personal hygiene is often seen as dishonourable in the samurai class. In addition, Seibei’s house is a small and cramped space where one center room adjoins both the kitchen and bedroom; the rooms are separated by sliding dividers and conversations can be heard from anywhere in the house. Compared with Seibei, Tomoe’s family is of higher samurai ranking and thus their house is a combination of several small complexes and an inner courtyard. The set design clearly distinguishes Seibei from the higher-ranking samurai.

Categories
drama, melodrama romance

A “Love Letter” to the Dead and the Living

The award-winning 1995 drama Love Letter by director Iwai Shunji is a film that has become a cult classic throughout Asia, with countless parodies made of the famous “How are you? (Ogenki desu ka?)” scene alone. Watching it again in 2010, fifteen years after its release, is an interesting experience. The years between viewings has made the sense of nostalgia deepen. And it is now even more evident than before that Love Letter’s lasting popularity and influence stems not so much from it being a perfectly made film, but from its deft portrayal of grief, regret and unfulfilled love.

Love Letter concentrates on two young women with the same face (both acted by the impressive Nakayama Miho): the tomboyish Fujii Itsuki, and the demure Watanabe Hiroko, who is struggling to come to terms with the tragic death of her fiancée (Kashiwabara Takashi) two years earlier. On the day of the two-year memorial of her fiancée’s death, Hiroko finds his address from his junior high school days, from a home that has since been demolished. On a whim she sends a letter to him at the address, not expecting a reply. However, a twist of fate allows the letter to be received by Itsuki, who happens to have the exact same name as the dead fiancée. Furthermore, Itsuki and the fiancée were classmates in junior high. Thus begins a strange correspondence between the two women, with the male Itsuki keeping them connected, and allowing them to make surprising discoveries about both him and themselves.

Love Letter is a visually breathtaking film. Taking place in the wintertime, mostly in Hokkaido, it is very much preoccupied with snowy mountain peaks and endless, pure fields of white snow, thus connecting the images of cold barrenness with the themes of death and grief. The film begins with Hiroko lying in the snow, holding her breath, so that until she suddenly gasps into life, she looks very much like a frozen corpse. Thus Iwai effectively portrays her desire to understand death and what has happened to Itsuki, and her own inner grief. This kind of idea is mirrored in the female Itsuki’s storyline – she has a cold for the entirety of the film, and she allows it to slowly get worse and worse, reliving her father’s death from pneumonia. The two women’s journeys follow similar trajectories, yet reach very different conclusions, culminating in an unforgettable ending that makes the heart feel both full and clenched. That is ultimately the greatest strength of Love Letter: its ability to understand the indescribable, and to tease the utmost sympathy from the viewer.

Despite its preoccupation with death and the pain of unspoken feelings, Love Letter is ultimately an optimistic, character-driven film. It follows each character’s emotions (big or small) with quiet understanding and with a slow pace that eases the viewer into its world. Even the lighting is dim and soft, casting a relaxed glow on everything and everyone within the confines of the screen. It could easily have become a film verging on the ridiculous, with one actress playing two characters and what with the multiple coincidences that occur. But Iwai manages to make these unlikely coincidences believable, and weaves the ridiculous in a way that makes them shine with a hint of fantasy. The pain, the nostalgia, the love that pervades the film are all things that any viewer can relate to. This embeds the film in a sense of reality that prepares the way for the silent, emotional punch that is the ending. Everything in the film is headed for that ending, and when it arrives, it is impossible not to be affected. What you will remember the most from Love Letter is that moment of blushing hope and love. That in itself is more than any film could ever hope to accomplish.

Categories
action chambara/chanbara jidai-geki literary adaptations

“Lady Snowblood”

Lady Snowblood/Shurayuki-hime (1973) is director Fujita Toshiya’s filmic adaptation of a manga originally published in Weekly Playboy. The film transcribes the title and plot from the manga written by Koike Kazuo and illustrated by Kamimura Kazuo. Kaji Meiko, in the lead role brings to life Kashime Shurayuki (Shurayuki-hime). The film’s cast also includes Nishimura Ko as Priest Dōkai, Kurosawa Toshio as Ashio Ryūrei, Daimon as Kashima Gō, Akaza Miyoko as Kashima Sayo and Okada Eiji as Tsukamoto Gishirō.

The film is the story of a young woman, Shurayuki, on a mission to avenge a crime committed against her family.  The crime is conveyed via a flashback sequence depicting Gō Kashima with his wife Sayo and young son Shiro (Uchida Shinichi) taking a walk on an idyllic sun-filled day. In a sudden attack, Kashima and son are murdered. Sayo is spared her life, only to be raped by the aggressors later. The film opens in a women’s prison, where Sayo, having been arrested for killing one of her aggressors, lies in a cell giving birth to Shurayuki.

Conceived out of suffering, she is born into a far-from-reconciled tragedy. Shurayuki is literally born in a prison cell, the symbolic significance of which becomes obvious when her mother dies of complications from childbirth. Sayo’s dying words utter Shurayuki’s fate: “For me there are things left undone…So I must let this child wreak my vengeance for me”. As sure as her words are spoken, Shurayuki is raised by Priest Dōkai, who trains her to become an assassin.  Her physical training is largely in the art of sword-fighting. She also receives mental training, largely in the philosophy of filial piety and fulfilling one’s destiny. At the age of twenty, fully trained, she begins her hunt for the perpetrators of the crime.

A significant aspect of the film is the articulation of Shurayuki’s isolation. Rhetorical devices such as dialogue are one manner in which this is achieved. However, specifically filmic elements are also employed. For example, Kaji Meiko’s first on-screen appearance is a canted angle shot of the title character hurrying through snow. Noticeably, there is no one else in the shot with her.  As she walks out of the frame, there is a jump cut to the next scene. This time, Shurayuki approaches the camera, walking against a wall located along the left of the screen. This shot appears to convey that Shurayuki must sequester herself. Keeping close to the wall, face hidden behind an umbrella, one seems to experience her heightened sense of awareness. It is as though having been born for a very specific pre-destined purpose; Shurayuki exists within the vacuum of her vengeance duty.

Another significant stylistic element is the employment of self-reflexivity. The film refers to its source not only in the appropriation of the plot, but in the editing of the narrative as well. For example, the film consists of four chapters, which invokes a literary nuance. Further, the film is visually inter-cut with photomontages, manga images, and even moments of anime. What results is an interruption of the filmic narrative, which appears to function as an appeal to the plot’s origins in popular culture. As such, the film reveals that although it is seemingly of the jidai-geki genre, it is in fact being told in the present. This is not unlike the way a manga in its very form reveals its contemporary perspective.

The film is a must-see for any Quentin Tarantino fans; the most avid will likely have already seen it. The Kill Bill trilogy is based quite intimately on Lady Snowblood. In juxtaposition, the similarities between the two films reveal how truly avant-garde Fujita’s vision was.

Categories
drama, melodrama gendai-geki

Jokes on the Road: A Feel-Good Story about a Little Boy Looking for His Mom

Kikujirō no Natsu (English title: Kikujiro) released in 1999, was written and directed by Kitano Takeshi. One of the main actors of the film is the director who is known as Beat Takeshi on Japanese TV programs, and another actor is Sekiguchi Yusuke, a child actor. The film was exhibited at Cannes Film Festival in 1999, and Kitano gained more attention from its work internationally as a film director. Kikujirō no Natsu is a road movie about an elementary school boy and a gangster-related middle aged man going for a journey to find a boy’s long-lost mother.

Masao, a grade three boy, spends his boring days doing nothing special during his summer vacation. He is less fortunate in terms of family background, and he lives with his grandmother in Tokyo. In order to break the boredom, Masao decides to go to Toyohashi where his mother is supposed to live. Kikujiro, an old neighbor’s husband who is a bad-mannered middle-aged man, accompanies Masao to meet his mother. At the beginning of their journey, Kikujiro does not show any support to find Masao’s mother – he just uses the travel expenses, which he got from his wife, for gambling. Obviously, Kikujiro uses Masao as a means of gambling. Kikujiro starts showing his support to poor Masao who is rescued by Kikujiro from a molester, and they help each other by using Kikujiro’s crafty ideas in order to get to Toyohashi free. On the way to Toyohashi, they also meet some people who treat them nicely. They finally arrive at Toyohashi, but Masao’s mother has started a new life with another man and their daughter. Kikujiro tries to comfort the heartbroken Masao by giving an angle bell. They find a sense of comfort with each other and continue their journey sharing bad and good times until they arrive in Tokyo.

In Kikujirō no Natsu, Kitano creates characters in a particular way in order to make the film powerful. It seems that Masao and Kikujiro do not share anything in common at the beginning of the story; however, they actually share a commonality – they are in a minority in Japanese society. For example, Masao’s lifestyle is not the same as a majority of children’s because of his unfortunate family background, and Kikujiro is a yakuza-related man who is excluded from society. Masao’s left-handedness also adds a sense of being a minority. These factors create a sense of loneliness and isolation. In addition, they both have specific attitudes in order to express these feelings. Masao is quiet and rarely shows his emotions; by contrast, Kikujiro is loud and very aggressive. These characteristics make the film more emotional to the audience. After Kikujiro found out that Masao’s circumstance is similar to his childhood, he tries to support Masao even though he is quite clumsy. Since Kitano creates the extreme character of Kikujiro, it makes a powerful effect in the story and on the audience. For example, Kikujiro’s transformation from a selfish gambler to a fatherly figure for Masao is a pleasant and surprisingly emotional experience for the audience. As we know that Masao passes through his life in deeper loneliness, so even Kikujiro’s small kindness to Masao seems to be a huge kindness from the audience’s point of view, and it moves them through their journey.

Kitano uses unique shots in order to depict Kikujiro’s emotional transition, and one of the significant shots in the movie is a nature shot. We can see several nature shots such as a frog jumping into water, a worm wriggling on grass, and a butterfly and dragonfly sitting on a branch. Close-shots are used for these shots, and the audience cannot tell who actually see these creatures in the movie, but it can be considered that Kikujiro is the viewer of the shots. Many Japanese people have an experience catching these creatures when they were children; therefore, it is possible to think that the shots are related to a memory of childhood. These shots are seen after Masao gives first aid for Kikujiro’s injury, so this is a turning point for Kikujiro, who regains a supple mind and makes a decision to see his own mother as if he tries to look back on his childhood by touching with Masao’s gentle nature. Moreover, the mise-en-scene of Kitano’s work helps Kikujiro’s transformation effectively. Kikujiro walks on a narrow road in the countryside which is surrounded by agricultural fields and a few old houses. This scenery psychologically creates a sense of nostalgia because it might remind Kikujiro of his childhood and drives him to redeem himself. After the scene, Kikujiro devotes himself to entertaining Masao until the end of the film, so we can see the change and growth of Kikujiro into a thoughtful adult.

Kitano Takeshi is also known as the comedian, Beat Takeshi in Japan, and some of his TV programs  contain extremely slapstick humor. Some audiences might think that the movie is full of awkwardness, but I think the awkwardness is a kind of uniqueness which only Kitano can express. This movie suggests people in unfortunate circumstances are not necessarily hopeless because Kikujiro and Masao are strongly tied through the journey and find a sense of friendship and comfort. Moreover, the movie suggests that adults are not always the ones who can raise children. Children also can help adults to grow mentally in some ways. Kikujirō no Natsu is heartwarming and strongly recommended because it makes the kindness of the human spirit very real for the audience.

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