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.

Like Father, Like Son

There are many comparisons made between Hirokazu Kore-eda and one of the Twentieth Century masters of Japanese cinema, the much lauded Ozu. With each film that the modern-day equivalent makes, the comparisons will continue to grow and grow, as his films maintain the theme of contemporary family life in Japan.

Similar to the recent 'Kiseki (I Wish)', 'Like Father, Like Son' focuses on the lives of two young boys and their unconventional relationships with their parents. While, 'Kiseki' looked at the lives of two brothers, separated by the parents' divorce, 'Like Father, Like Son' looks at the lives of two unrelated boys who, after a hospital mix-up, were raised by a random couple. The mix-up coming out years later, once the boys have started to develop, leaves both sets of parents unsure as to how to proceed.

'Kiseki' looked very much at the lives of the young brothers and how they work behind their parents' backs to be reunited, only to learn the hard way that things have now changed. In his latest effort, Kore-eda focuses very much on the parents, particularly the straight-edged, hard-working salary man, Ryota, who is forever baffled by his son's meagre talent and work ethic in comparison to his own. His equivalent, Yudai, raising his biological son, has a more relaxed approach to life, raising his son in a loving, family environment.

Naturally, the polarised approaches of the two males to life and parenting is a clear plot device to make the inevitable life-lesson learnt more poignant by the film's conclusion, and perhaps a slightly more idealistic scenarios for the story. However, much like his previous works, Kore-eda offers no easy solutions. Torn between the boy he has raised and loves and his blood, Ryota looks to all possible permutations for a solution to situation, but each presents its own problems.

The family situation presented is one of blood versus upbringing, with Ryota convinced that blood signifies everything - an important aspect of Japanese culture, where blood-type can be thought to determine various aspects of one's life - and as such looks at an interesting aspect of Japanese culture, and while a strong effort, it never quite matches the nostalgia of 'After Life', the detachment of 'Nobody Knows' or the coming of age of 'Keseki'. But here, Kore-eda again affirms that there is a case for himself as the heir to Ozu's title. Fifty years on since the latter's death, the former tackles the changes of a different time, with more and more unconventional relationships and post-modern family structures. Where Ozu looked at emerging female independence ('Late Autumn'), Kore-eda looks at a love doll developing a soul ('Air Doll'). The times have changed, but like father, like son.