The Sower

I can't say I'm much of an art critic. In fact, I know very little. What I can tell you though is that Vincent van Gogh painted various pictures of sunflowers, a man sowing seeds in a field and looked a bit strange to the rest of society - all knowledge I mainly picked up from Akira Kurosawa's "Dreams". One man who does know a bit more about the man, however, is artist - and now director - Yosuke Takeuchi. So much so, that's he's made a film in tribute to the man: "The Sower".

Mitsuo (Kentaro Kishi) has returned home after some time in hospital following the stresses of his time as a relief worker after 2011's earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster. He tries to acclimatise himself back into the real world by spending time with his brother Yuta (Tomomitsu Adachi) and his young family. Yuta's youngest daughter Itsuki (Ichika Takeuchi) has Down's Syndrome, and so when Mitsuo offers to look after the girls while the parents go about their business, Yuta's wife Yoko (Arisa Nakajima) is keen for elder daughter Chie (Suzuno Takenaka) to keep a close eye on her sister.

But tragedy strikes and an accident while Mitsuo is in the toilet leaves Itsuki on the floor and Mitsuo running for help. At the hospital, Chie tells her mother that Mitsuo dropped Itsuki - something we know to be a lie. A quiet loaner, Mitsuo doesn't argue the claims, regressing inside himself; his previous social status only adding to the validity of Chie's claims.

But the damage is done. Itsuki now dead, the family begins to disintegrate, becoming a group of individuals. Chie's guilt builds as Mitsuo is further pushed to society's fringes, seeking solace in the sowing of sunflower seeds; the flowers he enjoyed with Chie and Itsuki.

Takeuchi's debut feature film is slow in its pacing. The subject matter perhaps befits this sombre approach: the death of a child, lies, the nature of justice and the stigma of disability and mental health. The tension builds and the story comes to life when Chie's guilt starts to become apparent; feeling an outcast because of her lies, breaking up the family in the process. "The Sower" looks internally at its two leads in Chie and Mitsuo and how both cope as survivors of the situation.

The lack of music is notable, with the sound of silence allowing for the mind to lament along with the characters. There are no floods of tears, more a numb silence; people walking away from arguments rather than face the reality. Takeuchi also leaves many things unseen, though we are fully aware as to what is happening before us, the handling of the tragic incident played in cuts, the full picture only revealed alongside the false police reconstruction.

In the eyes of the legal system in Japan, Mitsuo provides the perfect solution for the case. A former psychiatric patient, alienated from society and now his family, he is a natural scapegoat. Chie's guilt sees her eventually reveal the truth to her mother. But, playing the role of Japanese society, Yoko insists that Chie sticks to the original story, seemingly unconcerned as to what actually happened, revealing her true feelings towards both her brother-in-law and perhaps even her own daughter. Yoko's mother tars the family with the same brush, claiming she should never have married Yuta with his seemingly "cursed" family.

Though perhaps Mitsuo is the only sane one featured in "The Sower". Everyone is seemingly living a lie, throwing accusations at others to hide their own guilt. Yoko is sure her brother-in-law is guilty by type, and does little to change this when discovering the truth; accusing Yuta of never caring for their daughter, while more obsessed with proportioning blame than mourning herself. Yuta meanwhile is fairly silent on the matter, showing little emotion, continuing with life, stating his brother is innocent, but pushing him away at the same time. Chie also has to come to terms with the fact that she is a liar and has caused the breakdown of the family, Yoko leaving to live with her mother, leaving three individuals after a family of four.

Chie learns some harsh lessons, seeing how tragedy brings out the worst in people. But in her uncle, she can see the best in people. His appreciation of sunflowers and sowing their seeds to give forth new life sees her follow him in awe: the man she has let take the blame, but who continues to try and do good.

Looking like van Gogh's image of "The Sower" himself, Mitsuo animates the painting, recreating its "movements." Little is said directly of his past; only the negative aspects. Similarly, the backdrop of the tsunami-hit region is also only alluded to at the film's beginning and conclusion, and so doesn't dominate the film. A former volunteer, his sowing of seeds sees him try to help rebuild and grow the devastated region.

A personal film, based on his fondness for van Gogh as an artist and featuring his own niece in the role of Itsuki, Takeuchi has created a strong debut feature, weaving a number of themes and ideas together, with a subtlety that befits its subject matter. As the film's concluding shots reveal, much like van Gogh, it's the wilted sunflowers that stand-out for Takeuchi.

Every 14 Days...(45)

Tokyo Trilogy (David Peace)

Inspired by finally getting round reading "The Damned United", based purely on my liking of Michael Sheen's performance in the film adaptation, I soon learnt that The Yorkshireman also likes writing about Tokyo - the city where he has lived for many years - as well as Yorkshire and 1970s football managers.

My main reason for reading the trilogy, however, was the recently released final instalment "Patient X", based on the life of Ryunosuke Akutagawa. I can't particularly say it was based on my enjoyment of Peace's writing style. The repetitive nature of "The Damned United" placed one firmly in the head of Mr Clough, though it isn't exactly classic literature. This style, however, could also be applied to the life of the troubled writer and is perhaps equally controversial.

But let's start at the beginning. "Tokyo Year Zero" starts off with Tokyo at its most low. The year after the end of the Second World War, Tokyo is a city destroyed in every which way. Detective Minami is a man disillusioned with everything around him, hating his job, his bosses, the occupying Americans, everything. Tasked with the near impossible cases of murdered young women found on wastelands, it's perhaps the final straw, left to hunt invisible people in dead surroundings. As the case progresses, Minami's own problems become more apparent: having an affair and never seeing his family; addicted to drugs; and a murky secret from his days in China during the War.

Where "Tokyo Year Zero" works is in creating the sense of the hopelessness of the city and its people following the War. Minami's case represents Tokyo at the time: seemingly impossible to see how the mess will get resolved. Minami can only see the vile, with little hope for a bright future. The repetitiveness, however, which walks a fine balance in "The Damned United", is again apparent and makes you wonder what you're paying for (1p on Amazon + P&P, I think I remember). Creating the sense of deja vu may heighten the character's "madness", but does also make you feel like you know what is coming on the next page. I've already read this, and so, things could be cut down...which would do wonders for my days per book average.  

The fractured writing style also grates a little in the second instalment: "Occupied City". While focused on one specific event, the Tokyo bank robbery resulting in the deaths of twelve employees in 1948, each chapter focuses on a different character involved in the case, bringing its own style with it. Diaries, newspaper cuttings, personal letters, reports all feature, leaving you wondering as to what the actual story is any more.

"Occupied City" is a book it is easy to get lost in - and not in a good way - with its ever-changing style. While this may keep things interesting, you fail to get absorbed in any of the characters or the event itself. Laszlo Krasznahorkai can do this to wondrous effect, but works more to an underlying theme, rather than different angles for one event. Here, too many angles leave you unable to see the wood for the trees, with the off button gradually switched in my mind.

A series of "shorts" is again used in "Patient X"; luckily here to greater effect. Akutagawa is the Japanese author of great repute, written about and studied to great extent and his name given to awards. This perhaps makes him a good figure to analyse based on the rich pool of sources, but also requires a new angle to be taken.

In chronological order, various stories from Akutagawa's life are included in an attempt to paint a picture of the man of many layers. His childhood and upbringing, his development in his early career and relationship with Natsume Soseki, right through to his increasing illness and death. 

As with any collection of shorts, it can be an inconsistent ride in terms of quality. There is often a tendency to break from the main subject, with stories within stories focusing more on others than the titular character. This can again cause one's mind to drift as the characters change when consistency is expected, but this is a definite step up in terms of keeping engagement from "Occupied City". 

However, "Patient X" seems more to give an impression of the people around Akutagawa, rather than Akutagawa himself. His deteriorating health well documented, this is an interesting collection, though perhaps some gaps in the story of Akutagawa are felt throughout. Though, as with many of the lives Peace's work has focused on, writing based on source material rather than actual experience of the man will always make the task a difficult one.

So, what do I make of Peace? The four pieces (Peace's?) I have read are based on true events and lives, and so are fictionalised versions of fact rather than case examples, which is something that sits a little uneasy with me in terms of the authority of the author.

But that pre-existing knowledge is where the intrigue is created, and as such, the controversy is a draw that definitely makes them worth reading. But Peace's style is flawed throughout. The repetitive use of repetition becomes tiring, making you can believe you can read without thinking. This "madness" of repetition perhaps reflects some of his subjects, but to read can become a bore. His unconventional sentence structuring also makes it feel a little simplistic and easy, considering the ambition in his choice of his subject matter.  

His ideas are interesting and make you take notice, and are indeed worth the read. But, perhaps like "Match of the Day": you get some highlights, but don't get a complete picture, and already know the result.

Tokyo Year Zero

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 14.9 

Occupied City

Days to read: 14

Days per book: 14.9

Patient X

Days to read: 14

Days per book: 14.9