Kamome shokudô

This is Naoko Ogigami's third feature film, and the first Japanese film to be shot entirely in Finland, land of the midnight sun. As I mentioned in some other postings, cinema allows you to be transported to fantasy worlds, and of course in a more realistic sense, going to countries we have yet to set foot upon.

The movie is set around a Japanese diner in Finland, and its owner, Sachie (Satomi Kobayashi). The story revolves around the diner, as well as the friendships that Sachie develops, with customer and crew. The food, "soul foods" as in the menu, can make anyone salivate and feel hunger pangs, especially when the movie was screened into dinner time.

Pretty nothing much happens in Kamome Diner, except that there are plenty of people flitting in and out of the eatery. It's like watching a television series with episodes strung together, each putting the focus and theme on guest characters of the show, how they interact with the established leads. We are introduced to Sachie's first customer, a Finnish teenager who enjoys Japanese anime, and from there, one thing leads to another, as Sachie meets up with Midori (Hairi Katagiri), also another Japanese who left Japan to seek her fortunes in a strange land.

The customers in the diner is set up in the story such that it's directly proportionate to the friendships established by Sachie. It's like a vicious circle being broken, with the seizing of opportunities and the chance of befriending a customer, comes the breaking down of hesitation that others have about something that is new, something less seen, something different. And as it grows, so too does the number of friendships being formed, nurtured and developed, akin to the care put into the creation of recipes and the cooking of food.

By the end of it, everyone had undergone changes in their lives for the better, through subtle interactions, lessons learnt, and all these in a rather mundane manner of living life, in normal day to day activities.

The cast is a mix of Japanese and Finnish, and the dialogue too a mix of languages. But given its themes of friendship, belief, keeping the faith and being positive just about everything, it's ultimately a feel good movie, with plenty of subtleties, a dash of humour, and generous servings of well intentions.

I have to agree with Shusei: This director isn't very concerned with cinema. The film doesn't speak to Japan's great cinematic history in any way. But the director is obviously very satisfied with herself. This film is emblematic of Japan's contemporary fetishism and myopia. It displays, unknowingly, a lot of the problems plaguing artistic and media discourses in Japan. There is a general sense of shallowness and lack of awareness that one notices if one is able to sit through this tripe. You get the Japanese constant and bizarre fascination with food, the lack of irony, the fetishization of and yet total disdain for and other-ing of all things "not Japanese," plus, you will observe the ghettoization and, again, fetishizing of a gender-group. This is very much a movie that is unselfconsciously and unwittingly by and for Japanese unmarried desexualized middle- aged "ladies" - a demographic distinction that is a kind of stigma created by the dysfunctions and pathologies of modern Japanese society. The film imagines that these Japanese "ladies" can escape their marginalization and branding in Japanese society while existing in a safe magical "foreign" world that is, obviously, anything but what life would be like if one moved and started a business in a foreign country. In this sense, the movie is both a product of and for masochistic Japanese propaganda.

Like the items from the menu of its titular establishment, "Kamome Diner" may be deceptively simple, yet within it is an amusing and sometimes hilarious contemplation on living in a foreign land, accompanied by droll performances and oozing sincerity so keen to please it would be churlish to fully dismiss. Naoki Ogigami's travelogue-slash-food show revels so much in its simplicity and oddity it's to the writer-director's credit that she succeeds on pulling it off with a material that sometimes border on sheer kink.

Sachie (Satomi Kobayashi) solely runs Kamome Diner (Ruokala Lokki), a restaurant in Helsinki she envisions catering to Finns looking for other than the typical Japanese fare -- a dream that, judging from the perpetually empty tables and chairs, is getting a cruel disappointment. Never getting more than curious stares from passersby, wheels of change start turning soon, however, with Sachie's first customer, an apparent Japanophile (Jarkko Niemi) whose eagerness to start up a small talk with her paves the way to meeting with Midori (Hairi Katagiri), a Japanese woman who is in Finland, as she explains in one of the film's most comical moments, by blind luck. Midori strikes a friendship with Sachie and helps in maintaining the diner, which gradually sees patrons trickle in even as Sachie develops a bond with some of the restaurant's customers.

Essentially a dissertation on the Maslowian hierarchy, Ogigami incrementally surrounds her characters with the core components for the survival of man (or woman, for that matter) by having them realize first the significance of basic necessities (the need to earn, the need for lodging, the need to find a lost luggage, etc) before they learn the value of peripheral essentials such as the camaraderie among themselves and the eventual self-actualization of Sachie as a restaurateur. The warm cinematography by Tuomo Virtanen lends a homey feel to the quaint diner -- a rather cramped but cozy place in the otherwise large but damp Finnish capital -- that furthers the empathetic kinship within its walls, a pleasing, if not perfect, marriage of the hospitable Japanese and the laid back Finn.

Although the two countries are located very far away from each other, there is a special link between Finland and Japan. After living in Finland for a few years, I have come to think of the Finns as the "Japanese of Europe" for their culture that seems alien to the rest of the West, a very reserved and homogeneous society that foreigners find nearly impossible to enter. In Japan, Finnish exports like the designers Ittala and Marimekko and the Moomins children's books have proved huge successes. The Japanese film KAMOME DINER celebrates this kinship by offering native audiences a fish-out-of-water film about Japanese women in Helsinki, but on universal themes that could appeal to viewers in Finland and beyond. The film is director Naoko Ogigami's adaptation of a novel by Yôko Mure.

As the film opens, we meet Sachie (Satomi Kobayashi), who has inexplicably decided to move from Japan to Finland and open a bare-bones eatery. That she has decided to serve rice balls (onigiri), a Japanese dish virtually unknown to the rest of the world, instead of the usual sushi or tempura only makes the premise all the more absurdist. After a month, she finally gets her first customer, but it is only a local fan of Japanese culture (Jarkko Niemi) who, by long tradition, gets his coffee for free everyday since he was its first patron, and he never brings any friends. When she meets with Midori (Hairi Katagiri), a Japanese woman who has just arrived in Finland and seems lost in life, Sachie decides to bring her on at the diner. They make an odd couple, these two, as as Sachie is petite and self-confident, while Midori is tall (gigantism tall) and awkward. Nevertheless, they gradually turn their restaurant into a success while discovering something of the Finnish society around them.

Any filmmaker taking on the subject of Finland is likely to pay homage to Aki Kaurismäki, Finland's most prominent filmmaker. Certainly the design of the diner, with its austerity, bleached pastel tones, and old-time decor is a typically Kaurismäkian touch. Some of the dry humor is also comparable to the the Finnish auteur, and a minor character is played by Markku Pelota, part of Kaurismäki stable. However, mainly this film lacks the bleakness or bitterness of Kaurismäki's work, and has a more straightforwardly heartwarming and cute ambiance.

As a Helsinki resident who knows the quirks of the culture and can recognize all of the shooting locations, I found this an occasionally amusing film, something worthwhile. However, it doesn't feel very deep, and it may be that its themes of female solidarity will prove accessible mainly to female viewers (author Yôko Mure has a mainly female readership in Japan). There is also the frustration that, in spite of the film's attempt to attract a female audience as well, some aspects of it must be based in references to Japanese culture that foreigners won't understand. For example, is Jarkko Niemi's character being lampooned as a typical Western "wapanese", or is the tension between him and Midori based on some other factor?

The English subtitles for the home-video release are high-quality, having been produced by a native English speaker. I speak Finnish and can confirm that the English subtitles mirror at least the Finnish dialogue reliably. I hope the same is true of the Japanese dialogue.

I agree with the previous commenter, that on some level, this was an empty film. But I don't see this as a bad thing: the lack of content can be just as meaningful as the glut of it. Personally, I prefer emptiness: it leaves more room for your own thoughts.

But I wouldn't criticize this movie on its illogicalities (yes, that's a word - at least from now on): there's some very clear surrealist tendencies in the story, and it seems to me that surrealism and logic mix together just about as well as water and oil would.

All in all, I think this film is modest and well made, and even though it mightn't end up as an eternally bright beacon in the vast steppes of the cinematic arts, it sucker-punches the hell out of films that aim to be bigger and more important, but end up being useless fluff.