Still Walking

Still Walking (2008) proves that the director Hirokazu Koreeda is the most fascinating Japanese filmmaker working today along with the infamous Sion Sono. Still Walking is an almost Ozu-like family drama which depicts a day in the life of a Japanese family when the grownup kids come and meet their parents with their own children to commemorate their dead sibling.

The film explores the contemporary family dynamics thoroughly - there's a LOT going on in the film. The dense narrative provides observations on generation gap (e.g. the values of grandparents are constantly put next to the modern ones), pride (e.g. the grandfather still acts like a doctor even though he's retired; the son doesn't want to reveal his occupational problems) and grief (e.g. the grandparents can't let go of their dead heir) among other themes. The characters are complex and fascinating - new layers are revealed gradually throughout the film. The conflicts within the family are handled in a restrained way which makes the film even more interesting.

Even though Koreeda's form reminds one of Ozu in the film with its static camera and similar framing, the film's editing patterns are vastly different. Most of the time there's a lot more cutting in Still Walking than in any of Ozu's films (there are a few longer takes as well). That way Koreeda makes the film his own so that it won't become "only" a tribute to Ozu. The form is very intimate and a bit minimal.

Still Walking is a wonderful, poignant film. I became so immersed into its world that I felt like I was a member of the lovely, dysfunctional family. There is something so poetic and lovable about each of the characters - they are so wounded and flawed even though they don't seem like that at first. 

Score: 10 out of 10

Departures

Yôjirô Takita's Departures (2008) won the Oscar award for the Best Foreign Language Film. In the film, a cellist is forced to become an "encoffinist", the person who prepares the dead for funerals. The film is a lot of things at the same time: a social observation on social stigmas related to occupation, a story of finding solace and dignity in the most unlikely place, and it is also about dealing with death and troubled relationships.

The film succeeds in being all of these things at the same time - although I did have one problem with the screenplay: the film was emotionally uneven at first because the comedy and drama didn't really mix together well. However, the film's last 30 minutes don't have this problem at all.

Formally the film is solid - even a bit fascinating in a few scenes. It works really well all the way from music (loved the cello) to editing (the montage after the first hour was brilliant). The form isn't spectacular enough to make the film a masterpiece - which is a shame because it has all the ingredients for that.

Departures deserves its Oscar because it is a very good film - sadly it doesn't manage to go beyond that. 

Score: 8 out of 10

Mother of Mine

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Klaus Härö's Mother of Mine (2005) touches on a subject which is rarely discussed nowadays (even in Finland): during World War II tens of thousands of Finnish children were sent to Sweden to avoid the conflict by living with a surrogate family. In Härö's film, a 9-year-old boy's mother sends him to Sweden after his father dies. Initially he hates the surrogate the members of which are just as broken and vulnerable as he is. Eventually their wounds begin to heal and they bond.

The screenplay is magnificent because it handles the subject and characters thoroughly and honestly. Problems concerning coming of age, language and family are explored and observed in an unforgettably poignant way. The screenplay is simply top-notch in all aspects. Härö's form is stunning yet again - especially his cinematography is simply impeccable. The only gripe I had with this film is rather minor: the last 20 minutes had a few weird formal choices that could have been done better. However, that is still a really tiny problem in a fantastic film.

Klaus Härö's Mother of Mine is Finnish (albeit a co-production with Swedes) cinema at its best. Forget Kaurismäki: it doesn't get a lot better than this.

Score: 10 out of 10

REWATCH: Last Life in the Universe

This is the first time I have watched a film that I have already reviewed on this blog again. I already reviewed Pen-ek Ratanaruang's Last Life in the Universe (2003) back in November so you better read it first in case you haven't already.

Ratanaruang's surrealistic and melancholic meditation on death, loss and isolation still packs a punch for me - although this time the film was not as surprising. The occasional black humor is brilliant and reminded me a bit of the korean director Chan-wook Park. However, the humor doesn't have a presense as strong as it has in Park's films. Doyle's cinematography is still fascinating and the musical score (and sound design in general) is haunting.

The thing I love the most about this film is the main character Kenji - and Asano's portrayal of him. Even though the character is an exaggerated stereotype, it never becomes a problem for me.  He is well developed and Asano's performance is simply stunning. I can not emphasize his importance to the film's success enough in this review.

Score: 10 out of 10

Last Life in the Universe

Pen-Ek Ratanaruang's Last Life in the Universe (2003) is the complete opposite of his earlier film, Monrak Transistor (2001): it is melancholic, calm and it is more concerned about its concepts than a tight and complicated plot. The film is an accurate character study of the two main characters. One is a completely introverted Japanese man (Tadanobu Asano) who attempts suicide on various occasions, but he claims he isnt doing it out of hopelessness. Due to an unfortunate accident, he meets an extroverted Thai girl (Sinitta Boonyasak).

The character studies are simply fascinating in Last Life in the Universe. Both of the main characters are given equal focus and it really gives a wide perspective for the film. We enter their dreams and thoughts in an intriguing way. At its core, the film is about life, death, alienation and reconciliation. Death is always present in the film. The eruptions of violence are somehow so melancholic and even bittersweet. It is interesting even on the surface as it works as a romantic comedy, but I hardly even thought of it as one before writing this review.

Christopher Doyle worked as the Director of Photography for this film, and that can easily be noticed in the cinematography. Ratanaruang's form was already excellent in Monrak Transistor without Doyle, but now it reaches new, unbelieveable levels of quality. The compositions and camera movement are so essential that many reviewers easily call it the third main character of the film.

The film relies heavily on the two main actors who are astonishing. Tadanobu Asano's restrained performance as the introvert is so pitch-perfect that I would laud it as one of the best performances of the whole decade. It is the complete opposite of his performance in Ichi the Killer, and it is refreshing to see him in a role like this. Sinitta Boonyasak's performance is not to be forgotten: it is as glorious as Asano's. Their body language is essential for the interpretation of the film and they succeed in so many ways that it is hard to describe it sufficiently. 

The same thing goes for the whole film: I believe my review can hardly describe, evaluate and show respect to the film as well as possible. It is so carefully nuanced and delicately executed. It left me with this strong feeling of weightlessness and emptiness - in a good way.

Score: 10 out of 10