Showing posts with label NC2014. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NC2014. Show all posts

06 September 2014

Friendship (友達, 2013)



In an oft-quoted line from As You Like It, Shakespeare wrote “All the world's a stage, / And all the men and women merely players: / They have their exits and their entrances; / And one man in his time plays many parts, / His acts being seven ages.  .  .” (II.vii).   This summarizes the conceit behind Mikihiro Endo’s debut feature film Friendship (友達/Tomodachi, 2013), which was runner up for the Nippon Visions Jury Award at Nippon Connection.  

The central character, Shimada (Takeshi Yamamoto), is a second-rate actor struggling to make it in a competitive film and TV industry.  Despite throwing himself whole-heartedly into countless auditions, Shimada is barely eking out a living on bit parts.  So when fellow actor Fukuchi  (Yusuke Oba) recommends that Shimada try out for a role with a company called Friendship, he jumps at the chance.
 
Fukada and Shimada in earnest discussion - Endo waits before showing us Shimada's face

It is only after he gets hired that Shimada discovers that this is no ordinary acting job.  Friendship hires actors to create real life situations as requested by their clients.  The company meticulously creates a space according to the client’s wishes and the actor interacts with the client in that space while the company monitors the room for the actor’s safety.  On the CCTV cameras, Shimada watches as Fukuda sits at a bar drinking with an elderly man, pretending to be the man’s absent son. 

Shimada is initially reluctant to take on the job himself, but Fukuda challenges him, asking “Does your acting benefit anyone?” and suggests that “actors are worthless off stage.”  Shimada’s first role requires him to play a demanding boss, so that the client can muster the courage to confront his boss and speak his mind for once.  Long-simmering frustrations boil to the surface and the client explodes into near violence – terrifying for Shimada but therapeutic for the client who immediately books another session. 

The main rule at Friendship is that the actor should keep things professional and not “get involved” with his clients.  Shimada finds this difficult with a beautiful high school student, Mio, who uses her sessions to indulge in her fantasy of planning a terrorist attack against girls she holds a grudge against at school.  The fact that someone so young and attractive could be dissatisfied with her life, intrigues Shimada and he finds himself clouding the lines between fiction and non-fiction by seeking contact with Mio outside of work.  Parallel story lines involving Shimada lying to his mother about landing a good role in a movie and Fukada lying about having a wife and kids further blur the distinctions between acting and “reality”.

Endo skilfully draws us into the personal lives of the central characters of Friendship with his cinematography.  Key scenes of dialogue or interaction between characters begin with a typical long shot establishing the location, but Endo holds off a moment or two longer than usual before moving into a shot reverse shot, increasing our curiosity to see the expressions on the character’s faces.  Instead of the typical medium shot of a shot reverse shot, Endo also prefers intimate close-ups on faces that force us to contemplate the characters’ innermost thoughts.  Cinematographer Erika Shimizu also imbues these scenes with warm colours that increase the feeling of intimacy.  The stillness of the contemplative scenes is contrasted by the handheld camera when Shimada is following Mio. 
 
subtle comedy: Shimada in the role of Ortega the terrorist for hire
Although the subject matter is quite earnest, Endo and his co-writer Hiroshi Okada, have injected some subtle humour into the script to keep it from getting too heavy.  For example, one of the auditions that Shimada and Fukada go out for is for a Sci-Fi movie called Jurassic Love.  Later, in the Mio scenes, Shimada seems blithely ignorant of the fact that his costume is a stereotypical Hollywood “terrorist” look complete with a checkered neckerchief and a Latin American name (Ortega).  Needless to say, his ignorance ends up coming back to haunt him when he takes the scenario too far.  


Under the guidance of his Tokyo University of the Arts mentor Kiyoshi Kurosawa (Charisma, Pulse, Tokyo Sonata), Endo has managed to avoid the common mistakes of many first-time filmmakers.    Friendship neither indulges itself with length – running at a comfortable, well-edited 75 minutes – nor with showy cinematography.  Doubtless influenced by his experience with the Marebito Theatre Company, Endo’s film shines with its emphasis on excellent acting and a cleverly written script. 


Mikihiro Endo (遠藤幹大, b. 1985) is from Mie Prefecture.  Upon graduation from Kyoto University of Art and Design he joined the Marebito Theatre Company.  After making a number of short films, he entered the Graduate Programme of Film and New Media at Tokyo University of the Arts, where he studied under Kiyoshi Kurosawa.  Friendship is his graduate work from this programme.  Check out his official website or follow him on twitter.

CAST

Takeshi YAMAMOTO
Hana MATSUMOTO
Yusuke OBA
Yoshiyuki KUBOTA
Tomomi MIYASHITA
Mutsuo YOSHIOKA
Yozaburo ITO

CREW

Director/Writer: Mikihiro ENDO
Producer: Ryuichi OGATA
Writer: Hiroshi OKADA
Cinematographer: Erika SHIMIZU
Sound Designer: Taro NISHIGAKI
Production Designer: Hinako KASUGA
Editor: Yoko IZUMI

2014 Catherine Munroe Hotes


13 June 2014

The Connecting Bridge (架け橋, 2013)



Japan has the most advanced early warning system for earthquakes and tsunami in the world, but that did not prevent 15,885 people from losing their lives in Tōhoku following the fifth largest earthquake ever recorded.  Many of these fatalities were caused by inadequate local knowledge (see: Reiko Hasegawa, IDDRI) and poor communication (See: S. Fraser, et al., Report). 

While the triple disaster of 3/11 was terrifying enough for the hearing population of Japan, imagine how exponentially more terrifying it must have been for the deaf community.  It was exactly this thought that spurred deaf documentarian Ayako Imamura (Studio Aya) to pick up her camera and drive to Miyagi Prefecture to find out how the deaf community was coping in the aftermath of the earthquake/tsunami.  Her first stop was the Miyagi Deaf Association, led by Shoju Koizumi, who from their headquarters in Sendai immediately sprang into action to assist their 363 members. 


Imamura focuses her documentary film The Connecting Bridge: 3/11 That Wasn’t Heard (架け橋~聞こえなかった3.11 / Kakehashi - Kikoenakatta 3.11, 2013) on the heart-rending stories of some of those members who survived.  Although many of them had received warnings of the imminent earthquake on their cellphones, in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake cellular communication went out of service.  Not only was this means of communication cut off, but deaf people were also unable to hear the tsunami warning sirens.  This meant that only those people who had thoughtful and concerned neighbours and family members were able to evacuate. 

In Iwanuma City, Imamura meets Teruo Sai and his wife, Naoko Sai, who for forty years have run a barbershop about 2 kilometres from the ocean.  The clock in their barbershop has stopped at the time of the earthquake.  Their shop is covered in mud and debris from the tsunami.  The Sais were unable to hear the announcements and by the time they realised that the tsunami was upon them it was too late to evacuate to the elementary school because the water was already rushing down the street.   Fortunately, they were able to survive on the second floor of their house. 



The Sais’ friends, Nobuko Kikuchi and her husband Tokichi Kikuchi, lost their home altogether.  All that remains is the foundation.  If their hearing neighbours had not taken the time to warn them, the Kikuchis would likely have perished along with their home.  The couple now live in an evacuation shelter.  As they are the only deaf people in the shelter, they find it very stressful because they never understand what is going on.  It soon becomes evident that the biggest communication problem is that the deaf are often too shy – or in a very Japanese way unwilling to inconvenience others – to let people know what their special needs are.  As deafness is not a visible disability, the hearing community often does not notice that there is a communication failure. 

I was reminded while watching The Connecting Bridge of something Marlee Matlin, the Oscar-winning deaf actress once said: “I hope I inspire people who hear. Hearing people have the ability to remove barriers that prevent deaf people from achieving their dreams.” (Source: Business Week, May 22, 2001).  This also appears to be the mission of Ayako Imamura, who hopes that by telling the stories of deaf people to inspire hearing people to take notice and to help build bridges between the hearing and the deaf communities. 

Imamura is not an objective filmmaker but a subjective one who really cares about the people she is filming.  The strong bond that she develops with the subjects of her film becomes evident when Mrs. Kikuchi becomes overwhelmed with emotion and Imamura steps in to embrace her.  The confusion and fear felt by these survivors is truly moving – particularly the story of Enao Kato, an elderly gentleman who never learned how to read during his wartime childhood.  This means that he is unable to read the instruction manuals for his new property in the evacuation shelter until Mr. Koizumi comes to assist him.



Koizumi is the strongest “connecting bridge” in this film, which is why it is so tragic in the middle of the film when he is struck down by a stroke.  His determination to recover from his stroke so that he can return to helping others in his community is truly inspiring.  The small acts of kindness depicted in the film, from the young volunteers trying to learn basic signs, to the barbershop customer who waits for the Sais to reopen before getting his hair cut again, are a reminder of how little it takes to reach out to others in our own neighbourhoods to make them feel understood and valued.  Not only can thinking of the needs of others spread good will, but when disaster strikes it can also save lives. 


Notes from the Q+A with Ayako Imamura (post-screening at Nippon Connection 2014)

  • Imamura bonded with Koizumi, the head of the Miyagi Deaf Association, over a shared love of beer.  It also turned out that Koizumi’s hearing daughter is the exact same age as Imamura and Koizumi himself is the same age as Imamura’s own father, so they bonded over this coincidence as well.
  • Regarding the soundtrack:  someone asked why she had used a male narrator when she, the director, is female.  Imamura responded that she chose a male narrator because the central story for her was that of Koizumi.  His own personal story begins and ends the film, and without him she would never had met the people he and the Miyagi Deaf Association were assisting. 
  • Regarding the music:  The closing of the film features the song “Not Alone” (1人じゃない / Hitori ja nai) by Kazuhiro Kojima quite prominently.  Imamura chose this song because she liked the lyrics so much and felt that they fit the message she was trying to get across with her film.  [It did not come up in the Q+A but I should note that Kazuhiro Kojima wrote the song “Not Alone” for the survivors of the Tōhoku disaster so its meaning resonates quite deeply for a Japanese audience (See: Vimeo).  Kojima is also the male narrator of the film.]
  • Imamura’s film training in the States was actually on film, so she taught herself how to use digital technology. 
  • Imamura expressed her fear of communicating with people who do not know how to sign.  Through her documentaries she has learned from other members of the deaf community about how to overcome these fears.  In particular, she mentioned how inspirational Tatsuro Ota, the surf shop owner who was the subject of her documentary Coffee and Pencil (珈琲とエンピツ, 2011) has been to her in the way that he builds communication bridges between himself and his hearing customers. 
  • Imamura’s current documentary project will profile a deaf family. 


Interview with Ayako Imamura


After the Q+A at Nippon Connection 2014, I had a chance to interview Imamura with the assistance of American ASL interpreter Joanna Martin who was flown in from Berlin for The Connecting Bridge’s German premiere.  You can see the amazing Joanna at work on YouTube interpreting an event with Berlin-based American author Michael Lederer into DGS (German Sign Language / Deutsche Gebärdensprache).  Imamura’s mother was also on hand for assistance with JSL (Japanese Sign Language /日本手話 / Nihon Shuwa).  15 years ago, Imamura spent a year studying filmmaking in the States and learned ASL while she was there (there were no courses in ASL available to her in Japan at that time).  She teaches at a school for the deaf in Japan which has close ties with a school in Manitoba (Anglophone Canadians also use ASL).

Having grown up in Canada with co-workers and Easter Seals campers whose primary language was ASL, I was full of questions for Imamura about the differences between North American and Japanese deaf culture.  Some interesting facts:
  • Japan was slow to introduce universal education for its deaf population.  As a result, many elderly people did not learn to read and write or to do standard JSL until later in life.  Although Imamura was fuzzy on the dates, she had the impression that until about 30 years ago it was challenging for deaf people to receive a full education. 
  • When Imamura went to university, it was difficult for her to get assistance with note-taking, etc.  This was in stark contrast to her experience at California State University, Northridge, which has a strong deaf community (they are home to the National Center on Deafness).  Her experience in the United States seemed to inspire her to fight for more rights in Japan.  I noticed on the website of the Japanese Federation of the Deaf that sign language did not get officially recognized as a language by the Japanese federal government until 2011!! 
  • When Imamura was growing up in the 1980s, closed captioned was not yet available for the deaf community.  As a result, she was bored by anime and other television series because she did not understand what was going on.  Her saving grace was the introduction of video technology.  Although most foreign films and series shown on TV in Japan are dubbed, they have a subbing culture for cinema.  Imamura’s father picked up E.T. (1982) from the video store for her when she was little and she loved it.  Her early movie education was mainly foreign films because they were the only ones with subtitles when she was growing up.  The irony was not lost on Imamura that her native land’s movie and television culture was foreign to her because they did not use closed captioning.
  • Modern technology (e-mail, text messaging, etc. has made communication between the deaf and hearing communities a lot easier but there is a major generation gap for elderly people who find new technology challenging.   Many of them still use faxes for long distance communication. 
  • It was clear from the context in The Connecting Bridge that Imamura would have come into contact with the stories of many of the Miyagi Deaf Association’s 363 members, so I asked her how she selected which people to use in the documentary.  She told me that she focused on the stories of survivors.  A lot of deaf people did not survive the disaster and the grief of their families was too fresh for her to intrude on their lives.  There were also many survivors who felt uncomfortable with the presence of a camera / a stranger documenting their difficult circumstances.  So, the people that feature in the films were the ones who opened themselves up to Imamura --- I could really feel when watching the film that the director came to care for the individuals she was recording, and that this friendship would likely continue after the film was done.
  • The subtitles are very prominent in this film.  Imamura chose white with black outline for the narrator.  Blue with white outline is used when men are speaking and red with white outline when women are speaking. 

The Connecting Bridge: 3/11 That Wasn’t Heard
架け橋~聞こえなかった3.11
Kakehashi - Kikoenakatta 3.11
Studio Aya, 74 min.


Catherine Munroe Hotes 2014


06 June 2014

Band of Ninja (忍者武芸帳, 1967)



Thanks to the Japan Visualmedia Translation Academy (JVTA), we were treated to a rare screening of the full length version of Nagisa Ōshima’s “motion comic” Band of Ninja (忍者武芸帳/ Ninja Bugei-chō, 1967) at Nippon Connection 2014 with new subtitles by JVTA.  A shorter version on 35mm with an English narrator has played occasionally at Ōshima retrospectives, but as the film is only available on DVD in Japan (without subs) it was wonderful to see an HD transfer of the film with JVTA subs.  The subtitles had a black outline to make them stand out against the white background.

Ninja bugei cho / Japanese Movie
Order the DVD: Ninja bugei cho (JP only)

Ōshima (大島渚, 1932-2013) is best known for his innovative, and often controversial, feature films that turn an unflinching eye onto social issues often ignored by mainstream cinema.  From bigotry and xenophobia (The Catch, 1961) to state execution (Death By Hanging, 1968, read my review), and from exotic asphyxiation (In the Realm of the Senses, 1976) to torture and war crimes (Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, 1983), no topic was out-of-bounds for this filmmaker whom Maureen Turim called a “Japanese Iconoclast” (The Films of Oshima Nagisa, 1998).



Band of Ninja stands out from Ōshima’s other work because it is neither live action, nor a documentary, but a filmed manga.  Adapted from the popular epic manga series Band of Ninja aka Tales of Ninja (忍者武芸帳/ Ninja Bugei-chō, 1959-62) by Sanpei Shirato (白土三平, b. 1932), author of the legendary Garo series Kamui Den (カムイ伝, 1964-71), Ōshima’s film is often wrongly called an animated film.  There are actually no animated sequences in Ōshima’s film.   Instead he has brought the manga to life by actually filming the original illustrations. 

Although this sounds potentially very dull, Ōshima and cinematographer Akira Takada (Violence at Noon, Sing a Song of Sex), know just how to sustain visual interest. They use varying camera distances including many close-ups for character reaction shots.  A sense of movement is created by the camera itself moving across the page and frequent cutting.  The story is quite a fast-paced one, packed with changing locales and a wide swathe of characters, so there is hardly a chance to catch one’s breath.  A lot of the cinematic techniques used by Ōshima are commonplace in limited animation – particularly the way in which backgrounds are filmed.  The only difference is that the characters themselves are not moving at all either. 



The soundtrack makes up for the lack of animation with its use of professional actors and a narrator (Shōichi Ozawa), a lively soundtrack by Hikaru Hayashi (Onibaba, The Naked Island, Kuroneko, Postcard), and excellent special effects.  The film does feel a bit on the long side at 118 minutes, but when one considers that the original manga runs to 17 volumes, it’s clear that they streamlined the story quite a bit.  Long-time Ōshima collaborator Sasaki Momoru (佐々木守, 1936-2006) helped write the screenplay and would later to go on to work on a number of popular series such as Ultraman Taro (1973) and the Isao Takahata directed Heidi of the Alps (1974).

The story begins in 1560 (Eiroku 3) during a prolonged time of great upheaval in Japan known as the Sengoku Period (c.1467 - c.1573) or the “Warring States” period.  The central characters are Kagemaru (Rokko Toura), a dashing but mysterious ninja who seems to have the ability to magically appear and save the day when a situation seems impossible; Jūtaro Yūki (Kei Yamamoto), who seeks to avenge the slaughter of his father and restore himself as master of Fushikage Castle; Akemi (Akiko Koyama), Jūtaro’s love interest and secret sister of Kagemaru; and the baddie, Oda Nobunaga (Fumio Watanabe), the evil daimyō and nemesis of Kagemaru, who seeks to unify Japan through violence and oppression.



The cast of characters is quite vast and it is hard to keep track of exactly where one is, which battle is taking place, and what year it is because the pace moves so quickly.  It is hard to imagine the manga being made as a live action film in the late 1960s because of the extreme violence and complicated special effects.  The ninja employ Kagemusha (影武者), “Shadow Warriors” or “body doubles” which could be achieved with today’s CGI but would have been difficult in 1967.  It occurred to me during the screening that Band of Ninja could easily be adapted as a kind of Japanese version of Game of Thrones.  It may seem hard to believe but I believe I saw more gruesome deaths and heads on spikes per minute in Band of Ninja than in a typical episode of Game of Thrones

If you are a fan of manga and have a chance to see this film, I highly recommend it.  The two highlights for me where the rollicking opening Kagemaru theme song and the way the camera lovingly shows off the original artwork by Sanpei Shirato.  A must-have for any fan of ninja manga.  To learn more about the manga, I recommend: Keith J. Rainville’s vintageninja.net and Ba Zi (aka Nicholas Theisen)’s What is Manga?

Catherine Munroe Hotes 2014

CREW

Director: Nagisa Oshima
Original Story: Sanpei Shirato
Screenplay: Mamoru Sasaki, Nagisa Oshima
Cinematography: Akira Takada
Editor: Keiichi Uraoka
Music: Hikaru Hayashi
Sung by: Sumito Tachikawa
Hideo Nishizaki
Producers: Masayuki Nakajima, Takuji Yamaguchi, Nagisa Oshima
Production Company: Sōzōsha
Distributer: Art Theatre Guild

VOICE CAST

Shōichi Ozawa (Narrator)
Kei Yamamoto (Jūtarō Yūki)
Akiko Koyama (Akemi)
Kei Satō (Shuzen Sakagami)
Noriko Matsumoto (Hotarubi)
Yoshiyuki Fukuda (Mufū-Dōjin)
Hideo Kanze (Nobutsuna Kamiizumi)
Nobuo Tanaka (Munetoshi Yagyu)
Juro Hayano (Boss of the Ikazuchi Band)
Shigeru Tsuyuguchi (Mitsuhide Akechi)
Fumio Watanabe (Nobunaga Oda and Kennyo)
Hikaru Hayashi (Tōkichirō Kinoshita)
Rokko Toura (Kagemaru)
Hōsei Komatsu (Onikichi [Zōroku])
Mitsuhiko Shibata (Ramaru Mori)
Keisuke Nakai (Takezō)
Ikuko Yamazaki (Chiyo)
Hideaki Ezuki (Head of the Village)
Kōichi Itō (Kyōnyo)
Yūko Hisamatsu (Kokemaru)
Minoru Matsushima (Girl)
Aiko Konoshima (female beggar)
Ikuyo Morita (another female beggar)
Tsuneo Sanada (Saizō)
Tadayoshi Ueda (One-eyed man)
Hatsuo Yamatani (farmer)
Sumiko Shirakawa (vagrant boy)

04 June 2014

Anthology with Cranes (鶴下絵和歌巻, 2011)



One of the highlights of Kōji Yamamura’s Retrospective at Nippon Connection 2014 was the rare opportunity to see his short-short animation Anthology with Cranes (鶴下絵和歌巻/Tsuru shitae waka kan, 2011).  During our Filmmaker’s Talk, I learned that Yamamura did not come up with the concept for this piece.  It was commissioned by a television series in which the producers were looking for artists to make works inspired by famous pieces of art.   Although the initial concept was not his own, Yamamura told us that he enjoyed the project very much.

The inspiration for this film is the celebrated early Edo period (17th century) scroll painting of the same name, Anthology with Cranes (鶴下絵和歌巻/Tsuru shitae waka kan).  The hand scroll has been designated an Important Cultural Property of Japan ((重要文化財 / Jūyō Bunkazai) and can be found in the Kyoto National Museum.  An online scrollable version of the work with a description can be found on their website Kyohaku.

The scroll is 34 cm tall and 1,356 cm wide and features fine calligraphy by Honami Kōetsu (本阿弥 光悦, 1558-1637), with decorative paintings Tawaraya Sōtatsu (俵屋 宗達, c. early 17th century, active as a painter 1602-35).  The motif of cranes is painted in silver and gold behind the calligraphy.  The slender forms of these graceful birds are delicately depicted in a variety of poses from standing to flying. 

In our chat, Yamamura said that it was not always clear in what direction the birds are moving, so he had to rely upon his own instincts in his interpretation of this experimental work.  Instead of silver and gold paint he has used watercolour.  The camera mimics the gaze of the reader of the scroll by “tracking” slowly from right to left (in the direction in which one would read a scroll in Japanese).  While screening the film, I was reminded of animation director Isao Takahata’s art book 12th Century Animation (十二世紀のアニメーション―, 1999), in which suggests that ancient scrolls are the ancestors of contemporary manga and anime.    

Yamamura’s interpretation of this elegant scroll is beautiful and entrancing.  The added touch of the natural sounds of cranes and lapping water recall the shallow bays where cranes might be found looking for food.  My only criticism was that the commission called for such a short film, for I could have watched it for many minutes more.

Kafka Inaka Isha / Animation
Support this artist by buying his work: Kafka Inaka Isha

HD / 2011 /Japan / 1’55”/ Colour

Direction, Animation and Painting
Koji Yamamura

Inbetweening
Koji Yamamura, Ayaka Nakata, Miki Tanaka

Assistant
Sanae Yamamura

Sound Design
Koji Kasamatsu

Sound Mix
Kenji Saito

Thanks to
Erika Hashiguchi, Chiyoda Raft

Production Company

review by: Catherine Munroe Hotes 2014 

This work screened at Nippon Connection 2014 #nc14 :

The Portrait Studio (寫眞館, 2013)



It is rare that an animated film moves me to tears, but Takashi Nakamura’s tender depiction of the passage of time during one of Japan’s most turbulent eras in The Portrait Studio (寫眞館 / Shashinkan, 2013) truly left me reaching for a handful of tissues.  This 18-minute short tells two stories: one of the relationship between a photographer and one of his subjects and, intertwined with it, a visual tale of the modernization of Japan. 

It begins amongst the lush greenness of Meiji Japan (the late 19th century), when photography was in its infancy.  A rickshaw brings a newly married couple across a spring meadow to the foot of a hill.  The man is dressed in a military uniform and the woman in an elegant European-style gown with a large hat.   They ascend a stone staircase to a lovely European-style wooden house that is home to the Hinomaru Portrait Studio.  The woman sits for her portrait but is too shy to raise her face to the camera, so the friendly photographer picks a bouquet of flowers for her.  His intuition proves correct, for the woman raises her head smiling and the photographer successfully catches the woman’s smile on film.



Thus begins the relationship between the photographer and this family.  Time passes, and the woman brings her infant daughter for a photograph.  The woman has lost her shyness in front of the camera but the baby startles the photographer with the angry expression on her face.  The photographer does his best to cajole the baby girl into smiling but it is all in vain.  As the baby grows up into girlhood and then womanhood, she comes back again and again for portraits of herself, her students, and her son, but she never smiles.  Despite this, a bond grows between subject and photographer and Nakamura creates suspense in us as spectators as we watch with growing anticipation to see if the woman will finally relent and smile for the camera.   



It is a moving tale that explores how photographs in the modern era have become such an important part of how we remember both our personal and collective histories.  I was reminded of something the renowned American photojournalist Dorothea Lange (1895-1965) – who lived during the same period and is famous for her photographs of the Depression and of the WWII Japanese relocation centres – once said: “Photography takes an instant out of time, altering it by holding it still.”



Photographs are reminders of happy times that have passed, and the bonds of friendship between the photographer and his subjects – the central character in this film is really a symbol of the whole community – remain steadfast in the face of a rapidly changing landscape.  Shot in glorious widescreen (21:9), Nakamura – who wrote, directed, and did the key animation for this labour of love – depicts the dramatic changes that happened in Tokyo and environs during this period from the Edo times through the devastation of the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923, the rise of nationalism in Japan, the second devastation of Tokyo due to American bombing, and into the modern trains and buildings of the immediate post-war era.  The film has no dialogue, with additional aural context provided by special effects (incidental noise) the lovely classical piano score composed by Jun Ichikawa.  This animated short is a visual delight with each frame a piece of art in its own right. 


CREW

Direction, Story, Key Animation:
Takashi Nakamura

Art Director:
Shinji Kimura

Animation Check:
Mitsunori Murata

Colour Designer:
Terumi Nakauchi

Director of Photography:
Mitsuhiro Satō

CGI Director:
Daisuke Oyabu

Music:
Jun Ichikawa

Sound Director, Sound Producer:
Yoshikazu Iwanami

Sound Effects:
Yasumasa Koyama

Sound Mixer:
Takayuki Yamaguchi

Production Company:
Studio Colorido

Takashi Nakamura (���村たかし, b. 1955) is a seasoned Japanese animator and director from Yamaguchi.  He began his career in animation as an inbetweener in 1974, and his debut work as an animation director on Golden Warrior Gold Lightan (黄金戦士ゴールド・ライタ, 1981-2) was influential to many of his peers including Kōji Morimoto.  More recently, his anime feature A Tree of Palme (パルムの樹, 2002) made the official selection at the Berlinale.  Nakamura is a founding member of the Japan Animation Creators Association (JAniCA) labour group. 

Catherine Munroe Hotes 2014

I saw this film at Nippon Connection 2014 #nc14




03 June 2014

Antonym (螺旋銀河, 2014)




On Sunday night, Natsuka Kusano won the Nippon Visions Jury Award at Nippon Connection 2014 for her debut feature Antonym (螺旋銀河/Rasen Ginga, 2014).  This is high praise indeed for the international jury consisted of Alex Zahlten, assistant professor at the Reischauer Institute of Japanese Studies at Harvard, Alex Oost, director of the Camera Japan Festival (October 1-5 in Rotterdam, 10-12 in Amsterdam),  and Japan Times film critic Mark Schilling


antonym/アントニム (noun): word that means the opposite of another word

People often say that opposites attract, and this seems to be the case for Sachiko Fukada (Asami Shibuya/twitter), an office worker who becomes transfixed by a beautiful fellow employee, Aya Sawai (Yuri Ishizaka), who she encounters in a staff washroom.  The two women appear to be the complete opposites of one another.  Shy Sachiko is plain and unadorned.  Even when not wearing her dull office uniform, she dresses in nondescript clothing.  In contrast, Aya wears a bright red jacket and takes a great deal of care with her appearance, touching up her make-up in the washroom mirror and wearing her hair long.  She exudes the kind of haughtiness one associates with the cliquey “cool” girls in high school.

However, appearance can be deceiving.  While Aya may appear confident in herself, she is actually masking a lot of insecurities.  Her night class writing teacher calls her out on it when he selects her radio drama “antonym” to be produced for air.  Rather than complimenting her on her writing, he tells her that the script is terrible and accuses her of seeing the world with blinkers on: “You think the world is yours, don’t you?  You only think of yourself.  No others exist.”  He wants to pair her up with a co-writer to teach her a lesson, but she digs in her heels at the thought of losing complete control over her work.  She lies and says she has a manga-ka friend who can help her, and her teacher calls her bluff, insisting she bring this friend to their next chat. 



Desperate to have her radio drama produced, Aya decides to use her new acquaitance, Sachiko, to deceive her writing teacher.  She asks Sachiko to pretend to be her manga-ka friend, thinking that she can manipulate the situation, but Sachiko is not as meek and simple as she outwardly seems.  The conflicting options and behaviour of the two women concerning the script and their relationship to one another triggers the façades they both hide behind to crumble, revealing that they may have more in common than they realize.

First time feature filmmaker Natsuka Kusano, has constructed a carefully considered narrative that puts a magnifying glass on relationships between women. Although the film is set in Osaka, thanks to a grant by the Cineastes Osaka Project CO2 (see: OAFF2014), it really could be set in any urban environment.  The film captures the loneliness of modern life against the cold lights of the city.  Most poignant is the scene in which Sachiko sits alone in the coin laundry staring at the washing machine as it cleans the shirt lent to her by Aya.  It’s a cool reminder that many of us spend more time conversing with machines than we do with other human beings. 

The climax of the film is very unusual in its stillness.  We witness Aya and Sachiko performing the radio drama in the studio.  In this minimalist environment we are obliged to concentrate on the words the women are saying and the feeling they instil in their words: “I want to be the same like you.  Even the faults, scars, pains, madness.  If there is a big hole on your body, I want to make the same [-sized] hole on the same place [on] my body.”  It is an inward looking film that delves deep into the conflicting emotions of envy, love, desire, ambition, and self-loathing that many people are confronted with daily. 



Natsuka Kusano (草野なつか, b. 1985) is from Yamato, Kanagawa Prefecture.  During her Creative Writing studies at Tokai University, Kusano took a class by film critic Sadao Yamane which kindled her interest in film.  Upon graduation, she studied filmmaking at the Film School of Tokyo, and participated in some independent films as production manager and other positions.  Antonym is her first feature film and was made possible by a grant by the Cineastes Osaka Project CO2 (see: OAFF2014).  Kusano is currently based in Tokyo.

CAST

Yuri Ishizaka
Asami Shibuya
Tetsu Onji
Seitaro Ishibashi
Kuniaki Nakamura


CREW
Director: Natsuka Kusano
Screenplay: Tomoyuki Takahashi, Natsuka Kusano
Cinematographer: Yoshihiro Okayama
Sound: Mikisuke Shimadzu
Music: Hiroshi Ueno

2014 Catherine Munroe Hotes