Shoplifters

So, after years of films put forward, Kore-eda Hirozaku finally scooped the big prize at this year's Cannes festival, claiming the Palme d'Or for his latest "Shoplifters". Coming a matter of months after the multiple successes of "The Third Murder" at the domestic Academy awards in Japan, he is adding medals to years of critical acclaim. But how does his most prized film sit among the rest of an oeuvre in which a bad film has yet to materialise?

Well, as if a "Nobody Knows" of adults, "Shoplifters" shows a "family" of acquaintances, brought together by a similar social status and treatment by their more traditional families. "Grandmother" Hatsue (the late Kirin Kiki), oversees her "son" Osamu (Lily Franky), his younger "wife" Nobuyo (Sakura Ando), her "sister" Aki (Mayu Matsuoka) and the couple's "son" Shota (Jyo Kairi).

After a session of successful five-finger discount, Osamu and Shota walk home passed the again-left-out-in-the-cold Yuri (Miyu Sasaki). Offering her food and warmth, they soon realise they will need to return her to her rightful home. But as they are about to do so, her parents' arguing can be heard, and Nobuyo can't bring herself to leave her in an unloving household. The couple, therefore, have just given birth to their second child and latest family member.

But what they can offer in a loving home cannot be matched financially. They all live in a one room shack, sleeping on top of each other. Osamu has a low-paying job in construction, but soon finds himself injured and out of work. Nobuyo works in a laundry service, but finds herself in the same scenario. Aki is the only real earner, but working in a peep show flaunting her bits, and as such does not share her keep with the others. The family's main livelihood, therefore, comes from Hatsue's pension and low-level thievery. Osamu and Shota are the main protagonists in this line of work, and Yuri is brought in on their game.

But a financial and family structure such as this can only stay stable for so long. Caught in the act, an accident during escape sees a hospitalisation, leading to arrests, prompting confessions, resulting in the end.

Kore-eda always poses a question in his films, to which there is no immediate answer. Here it is as to the bind that keeps families together. While they have no blood ties, in "taking in" Yuri, they treat her better than her parents ever will, with more love and dedication. They have little to offer any new family members, but all seem happy with the situation, despite all having lives that one would seek to avoid. This is closer than the relations the depicted blood relatives offer each other.

The "Shibatas" are together by choice rather than forcibly by blood, with their post-modern solution a seemingly better option against tradition. But blood ties will always be there, and the choice to walk away from the Shibatas is also true. On arriving, Yuri is given the option to stay or return to her family; and once the authorities become involved, there are perhaps deceptions in all of them.

Shota gets caught on purpose, knowing it could result in their demise; Osamu and Nobuyo's killing in self-defence of her ex-husband is revealed; Hatsue and Aki have former family connections, Hatsue claiming money off Aki's parents on the sly; and with Shota lying in hospital ready for questioning, the others plot their escape, leaving him alone. The "family" is perhaps no more than a convenience for the criminal, low paid and deceiving, with little actually known as to those they share a floor with. But once legally put to rights, all show that the artificial family they'd created was perhaps preferable to the alternative. With no blood ties, they had to be more careful and considered in their behaviour to each other and what is said and revealed, leaving a happier compromise.

As ever, Kore-eda's slow pacing allows for a succession of detailed and delicate shots to build the story, as well as your knowledge of Lily Franky's buttocks. The end, however, is a confessional, each revealing their story to the police in individual interviews (partly conducted by Kengo "...Yonosuke" Kora). Though these are not designed to pull too tightly on the heart strings. As with "Nobody Knows", the everyday nature of the reactions, again perhaps a nod to the reaction and treatment of the lower classes and underclass in modern society: unseen and treated with indifference.

Their family unit is not allowed to survive in the legal system; the poor and destitute barely able to survive under it also. And following on from "The Third Murder", Kore-eda again questions the nature of justice: The Shibata's "kidnap" Yuri, but treat her better than her parents ever would, though they are the convenient scapegoat.

Featuring good performances throughout from some old reliables as well as some new names, there is undoubtedly a lot of expectation sat on "Shoplifters". The truth is that it is not his best film, but is definitely up there in a career of high standards, though perhaps doesn't leave as much of an impression as some that have come before it. But in an era of dropping standards, this is certainly the best new film I have seen this year, cementing that his is one of the best talents in contemporary cinema and justifying those awards.

Politic 35

Having a lot of Homeboy Soundman sound waves coming in my frontal lobes lately...

...Listen here. But not via the internet, of course...


I'm Confessin' (That I Love You) - Thelonious Monk
The Gut - Homeboy Sandman and Edan
#NeverUseTheInternetAgain - Homeboy Sandman and Edan
Grim Seasons - Homeboy Sandman and Edan
Beauty - Edan
Clarity - Homeboy Sandman
Bus (A Rhyme) - Homeboy Sandman
Life Support - Homeboy Sandman
Not Really - Homeboy Sandman
How to be a Carpenter - Aesop Rock
金木犀 - Toshiki Hayashi (%C) and 鈴木真海子
Contact (Toshiki Hayashi (%C) Remix) - 鈴木真海子 
Under the Hood - Specifics
Love I Never Had It So Good - Ronny Jordan and DJ Krush
Triple Shot - スチャダラパー
Testimony - Anchorsong
般若心経RAP - Evisbeats
Houseki - Tate Takako
秘密の物語 - Tate Takako
あした、僕は - Tate Takako

The Great Buddha+

Taiwanese director Hsin-yao Huang's feature debut "The Great Buddha+" starts as a comedy tale of middle-aged misfit slackers, though by the end highlights the loneliness of those involved, perhaps brought about by a modern age of overactive media consumption.

Pickle (Cres Chuang) is an incompetent night watchman for Kevin Huang (Leon Dai), the local successful man commissioned to make a Buddha statue for a temple. With little to do each night, his friend Belly Bottom (Bamboo Chen) joins, bringing gifts of pornography, cold food and company. A bumbling duo of idiocy and perversity, Belly Bottom asks Pickle about Kevin's dashcam footage - looking for something to watch as the hours go by.

The pair then sit night after night watching hours of road moving towards them, though every now and then there are interesting recordings of the sounds going on in the back seat when Kevin has a lady with him. Eager for more "action," the pair watch more and more, soon uncovering some dark secrets which could have drastic implications for Kevin, as well as Pickle.

"The Great Buddha+" is a film full of self-aware in-jokes. The "+" in the title refers to the fact this is a building on an original short film from 2014, with a narrator popping-up here and there with an almost DVD commentary to add explanations and film notes, as well as cover plot holes. Shot in black and white - which is pleasing on the eye (the dashcam footage the only part of the film in colour) - the characters themselves even claim that reference to colours is needless in a black and white film. Belly Bottom also comments as to how TV is now easy to make, simply collecting hours of dashcam footage together. Something the film thankfully does not become.

Less post-modern comedy comes from the characters themselves, each with quirks and a buffoonish quality of loveable rogues, making-up a collection of life's downtrodden. Pickle is a man seemingly without dignity and courage, easily led; while Belly Bottom is the weird and wonderful, obsessed with claw machines. Their only other friends are Peanut (Na-dou Lin) who works in the local 7-Eleven (the source of further amusement) and the non-speaking, homeless Sugar Apple (Shao-huai Chang).

Their lives are contrasted by Kevin and his rich and powerful friends, frolicking in swimming pools with young women, with our heroes the clear opposite end of the spectrum. They spend their nights watching videos to learn more about the life of Pickle's boss, however, the sadness in the film's conclusion is not so much in death, but in learning that they knew little about those closest to them. Despite the hours spent together, Pickle knows little about Belly Bottom and the life he leads outside of joining him in his cabin at night. The group of misfits perhaps don't even fit alongside each other.

Cres Chuang stated that novice director Huang didn't give too much direction to the actors - whether out of naivety or craft - so little was really known as to who the characters really are. And in an age when learning as much as possible about others through media dominates, Buddha looms over all holding the secret.

Air Doll

Sex dolls are a thing now, aren't they, Richard Herring?! And for certain corners of the world a part of everyday life. For some even part of the family: not just a sex doll but a surrogate family member for the lonely to love, cherish and woo-hoo as a significant other.

That's the life of Hideo (Itsuji Itao) anyway, and his charming "wife" Nozomi (perky-breasted Bae Doona - though initially an actual blow-up doll). The couple live together is Hideo's small apartment, him working long hours away at a restaurant, coming home to Nozomi to have dinner with her and then take her to bed, always remembering to remove and clean the detachable vagina afterwards.

That is until one day when the naked Nozomi - again left in Hideo's bed - wakes up and becomes human. As Hideo has a fully stocked wardrobe of clothes for her in true Barbie doll fashion, she is able to get herself dressed and walk the streets...and browse the local video store...and get herself a job in said video store.

Nozomi soon carves out an actual life out for herself, becoming a part of the team and getting intimate with work colleague Junichi (ARATA). Hideo soon is just someone she has to make sure she is waiting for in bed each night. Though eventually Hideo soon has no need for Nozomi - finding himself a newer model. Nozomi, therefore, reveals her new trick and promptly walks out on him, straight to the bed of Junichi. But while becoming human in form, Nozomi is still far from human in soul, resulting in tragic consequences at her lack of understanding of human life.

"Air Doll" is the exact type of film you would expect to come from Japan, being unusual, perverted, but with an interesting layer sitting beneath the surface. Nozomi looks at Tokyo life from an outsider's perspective and maybe isn't always too impressed with human kind, least of all Hideo. Dolls are an important feature of Japanese culture which has a penchant for creating mascots and characters that become almost real for their admirers; taking various forms and styles as if celebrities reinventing themselves.

Like a baby with a teddy bear, Hideo creates a character for Nozomi that is his artificial ideal, rather than trying to interact with other humans, mirroring the hikikomori phenomenon of the recluse in Japanese society. As with the Puppet Master in "Ghost in the Shell", Nozomi is the child of a detached society where humans have rejected basic human interaction.

Written and directed by Japan's foremost director Kore-eda Hirokazu, alongside "After Life" this is one of his oddest films, and unusual in his oeuvre, featuring more explicit scenes than one would expect from him. The look and feel of the film is also different from his other works, feeling more like Shunji Iwai or Jun Ichikawa. And while a distinctly Japanese film, the cinematography comes from Taiwanese Lee Ping-bin, with South Korean leading lady Bae Doona taking on the title role.

Speaking of the aforementioned, the cinematography reflects the artifice of the metropolis as Nozomi wanders the streets of the lesser-known parts of Tokyo, with an evening twilight feel throughout. Bae Doona also gives a believable (if it can be that) performance as a blow-up doll come to life. Her movements are naturally unnatural, and perhaps the casting of a non-Japanese suited the outsider gaze necessary for the role.

Kore-eda takes his unconventional family dramas to a new level with "Air Doll", and perhaps in doing so he has made his worst film. The everyday is what works best for him, and "Air Doll" of course lacks that. But the worst of an excellent bunch isn't too bad, and while lacking reality, there is a realism in Nozomi and the scenario that she finds herself in. The end for Nozomi is one that will always prove the case when dealing with that which is disposable. But perhaps humans are now treated this way too easily.

Embracing vs Katatsumori

I know, I admit it: I've never actually seen a Naomi Kawase film before. Not that I don't want to see "Moe no Suzaku", I just haven't had the opportunity yet. So, if I'm going to start, why not, for once, start at the beginning?!

Seemingly not much more than student 8mm films - made while teaching at college - these two early documentary shorts are very personal works, specifically looking at her relationships with two family members: one close and one distant.

Embracing (1992)

Raised by her grandparents in Nara, Kawase is essentially an orphan though both her parents are alive. Her mother seemingly lives with her new family, while little is known of what became of her father. Starting with a conversation with her great aunt about how her parents met, her adopted mother asks her why she would want to find those who left her. Nonetheless, Kawase tries to track her father, visiting the places he formally lived in Osaka and Kobe and the Hyogo region. Eventually, she is able to locate his current residence and gains his phone number. But, does she want to make that call?

Katatsumori (1994)

Her second documentary short is a portrait of her great aunt who raised her. Kawase plays the annoying child, endlessly poking her camera in her great aunt's face as she goes about daily chores, mainly tending to the "garden" at the front of their house. But she also takes some more covert shots of her from a distance through windows. There is little in the way of story here, more a love letter to the woman who raised her, as they watch the garden grow together.

"Embracing" is very much an art film: out-of-focus abstract shots, with a constantly moving camera - at times irritating, at times very effective. The storytelling is at times unclear, but as we build towards the climax, things fit into place and is quite moving. "Katatsumori", however, is more conventional in its style: more straightforward camerawork as she films her great aunt going about her business.

You can see a change in Kawase between the two films. In "Embracing" her hair is short, her face is blank, her images abstract, with a more experimental and disgruntled youth, angry for answers. Though "Katatsumori" sees Kawase regularly smiling, with longer hair, appearing more the decent, girl next door than the more lost soul of "Embracing". This more abstract storytelling and poignant conclusion make "Embracing" the stronger of the two, though these are best watched as a pair, giving a rounded portrait of what would become one of Japan's most respected directors in later years.

Perhaps "Embracing" helped answer some questions and saw a coming-of-age for Kawase, more comfortable in herself two years later. She was once searching for her parents, but with "Katatsumori", she has realised her great aunt's words at the start of "Embracing": she is the women who raised her, and so always knew where her home was.

Every 14 Days...(47)

Unbeatable Mind: My Autobiography (Maya Yoshida)

Southampton defender and Premier League benchwarmer Maya Yoshida is probably a man not many would be too bothered about learning more. But, being a Japanese in the Premier League, he can mean big money on the other side of the planet. A sometimes captain at Southampton (when allowed on the pitch) and recently named full captain of the Japan national side, Yoshida has written several books already for a kanji (hiragana, katakana and romaji-ban)-reading audience.

Something of an Anglo-Japanese co-production, Yoshida's autobiography (his, no one else's) focuses much on his days at Southampton over the last few years, but starts off in the vein of a self-help book, outlining the various factors in life that lead him to create his "unbeatable mind" and "samurai resilience."

This can, therefore, start off somewhat unintentionally hilarious; Yoshida channelling his inner-Alan Partridge, endlessly quotable in its words. Here are some favourites:

"Anyway, Pochettino had already said 'My door is always open,' in front of the team.

                'I shall go and talk to him as he's said he'd welcome that,' I thought...

                'If I was to pick you, who do you suggest I omit from the match-day squad instead?' the manager said to me when I asked him why I wasn't picked. He parried my question with one of his own, and my answer was 'That's not for me to decide. It's your decision boss.' Then he answered straight back this time, 'That's right. It's my decision. And you're not in.'

                ...I joked, somewhat piqued, 'Lads, his door's open but it looks like his ears aren't.'"

"It didn't take long to realise that there was no chance of seeing the birth of 'Maya Yoshida, the regular Southampton full-back.'"

"Small variations could be fried eggs or a pot of yoghurt."

"For someone living in Japan, both the Netherlands and Germany are faraway foreign countries. But once you're in Europe you can travel back and forth between these two adjoining nations very easily."

"I shall proudly call it the strength of an 'old bloke's face.'"

"I said 'That'll do for now,' and got the key for the car Honda-san was using before his transfer to CSKA Moscow. It was an Audi A3. Once inside I had a quick look around, and found the rear seats were covered with dog hairs from his beloved shiba inu. It was more like an Audi K9 (canine). Honda-san, honestly!"

Towards the middle, however, once established in the Netherlands, his move to Southampton focuses more on the difficulties he had in struggling to find a place in the starting eleven and realise his Premier League dream; becoming less self-help and looking more at the difficulties for a young player coming to Europe alone from Asia and adjusting to a new life. Southampton's successes seeing many of his teammates get head-hunted, as well as the large number of different managers he has had to work with and impress.

Now one of Southampton's' longest-serving players and sometimes captain, there is perhaps some worth in this book for Saints fans, as well as some insight into the difficulties for Asian players coming to Europe and the Premier League (they can't all win it in their first season like Kagawa and Okazaki). And though charming enough, perhaps "Unbeatable Mind" entertained me for some of the wrong reasons.

Days to read:12

Days per book: 14.8

King of the Bored Frontier (K.S. Silkwood)

In 1997 I was probably touching myself inappropriately. No. Well, yes, but my brief former flatmate was an art student in those days...or was he? (He writes under a pseudonym).

The second published novel as part of a trilogy - this is the first that I have read (as I like to keep things in order) - this is a diary-like account of a Third Year art student in London. As the title suggests, coming post-Brit Pop, post-Damian Hurst and post-everything, our hero is a cynical third year, tired of art, tired of students and tired of just about anything...apart from Adidas, alcohol, sex and eye-liner. As part of his final project, a satire is planned, though in this bored state, is it genius or Jermaine Jenas?

The art aside, the journey along the final year of art college is the story. With alcohol consumption placed above actual study and practice, one can't help but replace the featured college bar with my own memories of Newcastle University's Men's Bar circa 2004, just without the art, the Adidas, the eye-liner and the possibility of kissing anyone. But then, I didn't go to art college.

Knowing the author, I can see much him in the lead (let's not call him 'hero' this time), though with an added sense of bravado (or not), but with a wit and charm that makes you want to get the next round in and relive the good ol' days, feeling as though you are there and have met (and lived with) characters like those involved.

But mainly, "The King of the Bored Frontier" did feature a quite simple line that for once actually did make me laugh out loud (spelt LOL) on a Tube. I'll leave it up to him to guess which one it was...

I hope I've misinterpreted things.

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 14.8

Parade (Shuichi Yoshida)

"Parade" is the ultimate in urban flatshares in that four flatmates soon become five; all of them knowing little of each other's lives outside of the flat, with some barely at home.

Each chapter is narrated by one of the five, with attention given to their relationship with the flatmate who will become the next narrator. Featured among the twenty-somethings and late teens are: a student who works in a Mexican restaurant; the unemployed girlfriend of a TV actor; a shop manager who illustrates and spends each night drunk; a male prostitute; and an employee for a film production company.

The failed or temporary nature of the relationships they all form tell the story of modern living in a capital city, namely Tokyo, as well as their knowing little about the lives of the people they share a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and lounge with; or choosing to turn a blind eye, as evidenced by the out-of-the-blue revelation coming at the book's conclusion. Careers and homes are fallen into, with lives occurring while other plans are in the initial stages.

The second best book written by a Yoshida I've read this past couple of months, "Parade" is a nice, steady read which shows a little of the life that everyone living in a capital city has probably experienced.

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 14.8

A Personal Matter (Kenzaburo Oe)

Kenzaburo Oe's "A Personal Matter" is exactly that: Coming a year after the birth of his autistic son (who grew to become composer Hikari Oe), it tells the somewhat shocking reaction of teacher "Bird" after his son is born with a deformity in his brain and the days following the birth.

The mother kept in the dark, Bird is left to be the sole decision maker as to how the child is managed. Initially, he follows suggestions to replace milk with sugar water; before rejecting surgery to try and save the baby, opting instead to take the child to a less reputable abortionist. All this is done alongside getting blind drunk and vomiting in front of one of his classes and having repeated sexual liaisons with a former college girlfriend. And this is just the first couple of days of being a father.

Bird's immediate reaction is to runaway. His dreams of Africa and a more active sex life immediately come to the fore as he tries to escape the reality of what is happening and take responsibility. This is probably very much a male reaction when placed in a position of having to make a decision on the life of their newborn, and probably reflects more than some of the thoughts that went through Oe's mind on his son's birth.

This is a tragicomedy: the initial reaction of the doctors involved one almost of delight at having such a rare case happen on their patch; as well as Bird's father-in-law offering him what he knows is a poisonous bottle of whiskey given his past, resulting in the aforementioned lesson plan. Though Oe still manages to weave in some social comment as to post-war Japanese society.

Bird's reactions are an exaggeration, but "A Personal Matter" is perhaps more refreshing than shocking for its honesty, humour and reflection of its age.

Days to read: 11

Days per book: 14.8

Ten Years Japan

In an age of ever-increasing technology, art has been showing an increasing anxiety at these increasingly rapid developments towards "Terminator 2: Judgement Day". Armando Iannucci lampooned it with "Time Trumpet"; Charlie Brooker has shat his pants over it with "Black Mirror"; and in 2015, five young directors from Hong Kong were tasked with expressing anxieties at the changing political climate in Hong Kong post-hand-over to China. Set ten (count them) years in the future, "Ten Years" featured five short films showing possible futures for the people of Hong Kong as China's influence increases.

Three years later, the producers of "Ten Years" have moved towards other Asian countries, with a trilogy of "Ten Years Thailand", "Ten Years Taiwan" and "Ten Years Japan". The latter (the one I watched), executive produced by respected film man Kore-eda Hirokazu, is made in the same vein, looking at themes that are universal, but are specific to Japan at the same time.

The first, fourth and fifth films are more specific to current Japanese anxieties:

"Plan 75" (directed by Chie Hayakawa) is a gentle pace-setter, looking at concerns of Japan's ageing population. The problem no secret to the world, the "Plan 75" scheme is a government-sanctioned euthanasia programme to offer a happy solution for all. But when the scheme is taken up by a young employee of the scheme's mother-in-law, his pregnant wife is less than happy; and the reaction of a young man as he sets up a stall at a train station show that this solution is full with difficulties in an increasingly less-human political landscape.

"The Air We Can't See" (directed by Akiyo Fujimura) is perhaps the weakest of the bunch, as humanity is forced to live in underground bunkers, following a nuclear meltdown. Young Mizuki wants nothing more than to see beyond the concrete walls that surround her world, while her mother wants to keep her in a secure bubble. But while recent tragedy make this a very real concern, futures where nature is taken away from humans is one done many times before, making this a little bland, like the walls surrounding Mizuki's days.

The final short, "For Our Beautiful Country" (directed by Kei Ishikawa) has the return of Japanese militarism at heart, and is one of the stronger pieces on display. A poster for recruitment for the war effort is deemed too old fashioned by the Ministry of Defence, and a young advertising exec is sent to the house of the ageing designer to tell her the bad news. But instead of an awkward conversation, he is treated to food and video games with a playful old lady and daughter of a war veteran. She is well aware of why he has come and it was her intention all along the make her design unappealing to the young. War is not something she wants advertised.

The second and third segments are more universal themes."Mischievous Alliance" (directed by Yusuke Kinoshita) is straight out of "Black Mirror": school children signed up to a scheme where they wear a headset that tracks their movements and behaviour. Big Brother surveillance surrounding the grounds, the children's behaviour is constantly monitored and messages designed to shape their future careers are pumped into their minds at all times. The imminent death of the school horse prompts one boy to rebel against it and its consequences. A clear dig at Japanese school systems, this is perhaps one school day not to be too fondly remembered.

"Data" (directed by Megumi Tsuno) again has "Black Mirror" at heart. A young girl whose mother has died starts to get anxious as to the mother she never knew when her father wants her to meet the new woman in his life. A data passport allows you to "inherit" the social media data of the owner. As such, she opens up a can of worms, seeing words and images without context. Discovering things she wished she probably hadn't, she begins to question her own life and situation. Her father, seemingly well prepared for this, helps her see that real relationships are better than virtual ones.

As with the original "Ten Years", it's a little bumpy, though the quality is perhaps more consistent overall - the Hong Kong original switching between strong works to the down-right bizarre. But made on a budget with novice filmmakers, this is to be expected. Also, with only an average of around twenty minutes, ideas cannot be fully explored and formed, making the more simple ideas, such as "Data", work more effectively at getting their point across.

One thing that is noticeable with "Ten Years Japan", however, is that while the Hong Kong original was borne out of genuine political concerns, the Japanese version feels much more like an extension of a successful idea. As such, the five stories feel more like pilot ideas for "Black Mirror" rather than genuine political statements about the way the world is turning. The ideas are at times clever, but never cut too deep - as previously stated, feeling quite universal as opposed to the more specific concerns affecting Hong Kong. Technology is more a feature of anxieties here, as well as the demands of an ageing population and increasing nationalist sentiment. Though these are themes that are hardly specific to Japan alone.  

But while not perfect, "Ten Years Japan" has enough good ideas and filmmaking on display to get you thinking. It's just that the thoughts here might be ones you've already had.