Cerezos en flor

I will not say 'Cherry Bloosoms' perfectly flawless. The first half of the movie is a bit too plain, beautiful though. It is easy for audience to find traces of 'Tokyo Story' (Ozu's 1953 work) in the film. The filmmaker attempted a large amount of 'pillow shot'. Audience may feel like she was trying to replicate what Ozu did. It may not be a bad idea,especially young generation nowadays has not even spent a minute on watching old films like Ozu's work. But to me, 'Tokyo Story' is too perfect, and the movie I am talking now is not anywhere near it in the case when both of them are critiquing the relationship between parents and grown-up children.

Yet I did experience a sublime journey throughout the course of this beautiful film. What really moved me is the second half of the movie- its delicate description on 'mourning', on how a man copes with the mourning with all kinds of valuable memories of the dead. Beyond doubt the filmmaker did a great work on conveying the feeling of loss. The character'Yu' is impressive enough I still thought of her face that night after watching the movie. She is not the kind of girl with a beautiful face. We the audiences know nearly nothing about the character, but she really hit my heart in a deep way. She is lonely and sad, easily grabs the heart of audiences.Thanks to the soundtrack also. The film is soft, slow, sad, but at the same time it taught me a lesson. To treasure every single person besides me, and to pursue what really matters to me, as can life be ever predicted.

A German director Doris Dorrie's third film in her trilogy on Japan, Cherry Blossoms, is an exquisite, absorbing and deeply moving meditation on life, death, loss, loneliness and grief.

Talking about old parents with alienated and indifferent descendants, the first half of the film may remind the audience of Yasujiro Ozu's film made in 1953, Tokyo Monogatari. The six hugging-or-massage (by family members and strangers) scenes and the father's harmonious relationships with his daughter's girlfriend and a Japanese girl successfully highlight the poor relationship between the father and his children.

The second half in which the main character embarks on a reflective journey in search of traces of the deceased love captures the mood of Lost in Translation and Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles. The cultural shock experienced also makes the film distinguishable from Under the Sand.

Cherry blossoms and Mount Fuji symbolize the fleeting and unpredictable nature of life. The film delivers a message that we should treasure the people around us, pursue our dreams and enjoy life to the full so that we will have no regrets. Besides, it is also about the main character's inability to communicate with not only the dead, but also the living family members. Butoh, a Japanese dance, helps people to feel and establish connections with others. What's more, the audience can pay attention to the symbolic meaning of the drawings at the beginning of the film and the photos at the end.

The cinematographer and the composer also succeed in evoking different tones from several shooting locations in Germany and Japan. The suburbs contrast sharply with the hustle and bustle of city life. Apart from the poetic and stunning visual images and the Japanese music playing upon the audience's heartstrings, the characters are so lifelike that the audience will care about what happen to them.

On the whole, although Cherry Blossoms is a bit too long, without emotional bludgeoning or syrupy manipulation, it is a little road movie producing emotional resonance and reflective ripples in a whisper.

I think it was for me a sublime movie experience. I tells about many things: lack of communication between generations, the passing of life and the necessity to cherish it while it lasts, the cultural differences and similarities between Germany and Japan. It also describes how we often do not know well even those closest to us. In the beginning the old couple seems so boring, one-sided and uninvolving, boy does it change as the film unravels. The film is very well written, directed and acted. Also one of the best, wholest descriptions of the current life in Japan I ever saw on celluloide. I loved the character of the young girl in Japan, her wonderful, delicate dignity in the face of the horrors of her lonely life. The man entered her life by coincidence and changed it for the better, maybe saving her from getting crazy or raped, or even killed.

I can't begin to describe how much this film moved me. After nearly losing my spouse, best friend and soul mate, I could relate to the crushing emotions of both Trudi and Rudi. Life stands still when you're faced with the realization of living without that person.

In 2009 my husband was diagnosed with cancer, and it crushed me. The way Trudi tried to hide her tears, how she couldn't sleep or eat, and her painful realization that each moment with him might be the last were things I experienced firsthand. I can't imagine the added of burden of trying to keep it from him and act as if nothing were wrong. I failed miserably as a strong, supportive caretaker.

Many of the things Rudi went through were similar to what I imagined my life would become if he didn't make it. One of the things that really struck me was the portrayal of how seemingly mundane, everyday events become vivid and painful reminders of what was and what you desperately wish you still had.

A beautiful movie, a work of art.

Doris Dörrie's "Cherry Blossoms" - opening "Berlin and Beyond" Thursday, in U.S. release on Friday - has two original titles, one in German: "Kirschblüten," which means cherry blossoms, and another in Japanese: "Hanami," which doesn't.

The Japanese equivalent to the English and German titles would be "sakura"; "hanami" is a national ceremony/celebration/holiday of WATCHING the blossoms open. Dating back to the 8th century, hanami is an event without parallel outside Japan.

The difference between the titles is a subtle, but meaningful message. Just as the blossoms in themselves are different from the veritable cult surrounding them in Japan, Dörrie's characters live in two different worlds, acting differently, first clashing (similarly to "Lost in Translation") and then - somewhat mysteriously - cohere. With this complex, effective, and moving story, Dörrie, who has spent more than three decades writing and directing "interesting and different" films of varying quality, has reached a pinnacle of her career. (She owes a debt of gratitude to Yasujiro Ozu, especially his "Tokyo Story.")

"Germans and Japanese," Dörrie has said, "are really very much alike — incredibly repressed and very irrational at the same time." This vague and rather ridiculous generalization actually seems to come to life in "Cherry Blossoms."

One of Germany's best-known TV stars, Elmar Wepper, appears in his first movie role, and he nails the character of Rudi Angermeier, a cartoonishly ordinary man on an extraordinary journey. Unknown to him, he is near the end of his life, as he slowly, believably emerges from a stolid German middle-class life of unvariable routine to traverse distance and radically different cultures, all the way to Mount Fuji, dancing butoh.

There are two remarkable co-stars along Rudi's adventure: his wife, Trudi, played by the glamorous actress Hannelore Elsner, appearing heroically unglamorous here to fit the role of a plain housefrau; and Aya Irizuki as Yu.

Yu is one of those rare cinematic creations, a character you may not understand, but one who will stay with you. This waif, runaway, street artist is as bizarre a representative of Japan as - going back to "Lost in Translation" again - Bill Murray's Premium Fantasy woman ("Rip my stockings!") and yet she also evokes Giulietta Masina's character in "La Strada," a couple of continents away.

Watching Rudi and Yu under the cherry blossoms, with the strangely elusive Mount Fuji in the background finally peeking out from behind the clouds, is among the more memorable scenes in contemporary cinema.