Buddhism in Japan is often associated with death. When one dies, the
ceremonies that take place will often be Buddhist, but as Donald Richie explores, these could be as much for functional purpose as religious belief. But,
obviously of course, no one knows what actually happens when you die. Or do we?
It depends whether one is thinking about it from the perspective of the body or
the soul.
Yojiro Takita's Oscar-winning 2008 "Departures" see cellist Daigo's (popular hair model Masahiro Motoki) orchestra disband in Tokyo, leaving him doubtful of his talent and so his future. On a whim, he convinces his wife - with little coercion - into moving back to his small hometown in Yamagata, moving into the cafe his mother left him.
Needing work, he responds to an ad with few details, but nice pay
packets, and is immediately hired. It soon turns out that his job will be as an
"encoffinfer", performing the Japanese noukan ritual of preparing the
body before it is placed into the coffin (and then burnt, of course). Not an
easy job, he struggles to cope at first and soon feels society's evil eyes once
his new job is learnt: perceived as a dirty man for his handling of dead
bodies.
As the film progresses, so does his skill, winning over his doubters,
including his wife, and finding what would appear to be a true calling: sending
the bodies of the recently deceased on their final journey, coming to terms
with some of the opportunities missed in life.
Ten years earlier, Kore-eda Hirokazu released his second feature film:
1998's "After Life" (or perhaps its more appropriate Japanese title
"Wandafuru Raifu"). Here, there after life probably isn't quite what
you expected. Upon dying, you enter a somewhat New England-esque academic
building, taking a ticket as if a doctor's waiting room.
On this "Monday morning", you are assigned a counsellor who
will pose you the situation: You have a week to choose the one memory of your
life which you will take with you for eternity. This memory is recreated by a
somewhat haphazard film crew, starring your good self, and the film is then
shown to you in a cinema. Once viewed, you disappear for eternity, locked in
that memory.
Somewhat fanciful, the counsellors are all people that were either
unable, or refused, to make the choice, and thus stay in a purgatory of
administration and archiving, forever reliving Monday morning. A series of
interviews are conducted with the various recently deceased, with now
long-experienced - but still youthful in look - Takashi (Arata) given the task
of counselling the man who married his fiancée after he died. Opening up some
old wounds, Takashi spends the week contemplating his own favourite memories
and finally makes his choice.
The outlooks of the two films are quite different in their thoughts on
death. "After Life" plays little on the sadness of having died. Those
that enter are quite chipper, one must say, on learning that they've just kicked
the bucket. As the Japanese title suggests, it's very much about celebrating
the most precious, and wonderful, memories that we have of our lives. This
could perhaps be down to Kore-eda's combination of actors and real-life
ordinary folk discussing their favourite memories. Using his documentary
skills, this is as much an exploration of memory than a mourning of death.
"Departures", however, is very much aware of the sadness of
death. Very reminiscent of Shunji Iwai's "Love Letter" in numerous
ways, there are moments of sentimentality, tugging at the heartstrings, as well
as plucking on the cello strings. Tears and emotion run throughout; the sadness
of the families a key theme. A shot of a young child's body being prepared for
their coffin accompanied by their smiling photo, hitting home the sadness in
the simplest of ways. Though family tears and timely music perhaps dominate,
going for more conventional crowd-(dis)pleasing.
This is absent from "After Life", laying people's memories
out before them to celebrate and chew on; more philosophical than sentimental.
If death hurts those left behind, "After Life" is the memories of
life for the deceased; whereas "Departures" is the final memory for
the mourners.
If we're looking at religion in Japanese death, however, "After
Life" perhaps lacks any religion. Death is a bureaucratic process than a
passing over. As seen in other films, such as Tim Burton's
"Beetlejuice", death is likened to the administrative Hell on Earth
of waiting rooms, form-filling and box-ticking.
It's also a strange film in that it's very much of its time, serving as
a time capsule, with the provision of lo-fi VHS cassette tapes for "clients"
to view moments from their lives to help them in their choice. Surely the after
life's administrative team can come up with a less archaic system! The
recreations also seem to be more "human" and of the "real
world", made to a seemingly small budget and limited time frame, far from
Hollywood glitz and glam that many of the dead may have wished to achieve in
the film of their life. A theme running throughout Kore-eda's body of work,
this is perhaps as much a comment on the modern nature of memory and how we try
to recreate it in permanent form rather than live in the moment of emotion. A
comment as relevant now as ever.
"Departures" features the religious ceremony of the noukan,
placing the body in ritual dress, with accompanying make-up. But with even this
dying out with the elderly, it perhaps reflects Richie's doubts as to the true
religious nature of these "performances". Making the dead look their
best is perhaps purely for aesthetic purposes, giving mourners one last perfect
memory.
Daigo's skill is very much in-line with Japanese aesthetics: The almost
perfect folding with due care and attention of the deceased clothes, creating
an intimate one-on-one with the body. "After Life", with its
counsellors getting deep into their clients personal lives and directing them
towards their perfect choice: Ones who struggle are probed to search deeper; those
who go obvious, are challenged to look more inwards, creating an intimate
one-on-one with the soul.
Mono no aware, the Japanese sense of the fleeting nature of beauty and
the impermanence of all things is alive in both films. Daigo's hard work and
skill is - for want of a better word - in vain; the bodies made beautiful, only
to be burnt at cremation soon after. "After Life" forces the choice
of the single moment that defines a whole existence (and they only give you a
week!). The last memory for the living versus the eternal memory for the dead;
and perhaps a more Japanese sense of religion than any organised belief system.
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