Tsuki to Cherî

Noriko Eguchi is one of my favorite actresses. She's had small parts in nearly fifty films in eight years. What's remarkable is that most of them have been reasonably high profile and critically well received, suggesting she has good intuition when it comes to selecting roles, and many of them are at the hands of Japan's best directors, suggesting they have good intuition when it comes to casting. She's not a box office draw, being much more a character actor than any idol-of-the-moment type, but she helps elevate every film she's in. Whenever she's on screen she always appears smarter, stronger, deeper, and a little more enigmatic than everyone around her.

It's almost as if director Yuki Tanada wrote her first feature length film, Moon and Cherry, with Eguchi in mind. The film centers on the machinations of Mayama, played by Eguchi, as a member of a university erotic literature writing club. Mayama, its only female member, is the most talented and respected of the group because she's already been published, albeit under a male pseudonym. She's had sex with all but one of the other members of the group and uses the experiences as fodder for her writings. The film kicks into gear when a younger student, Tadokoro, joins the group. He immediately impresses the male members of the group with his knowledge of female anatomy, but just as he is swimming in their praise and accolades, Mayama walks in and says "Yeah, but you're a virgin." Experienced women can sense these things and Tadokoro is busted. Thus begins the intriguing gender role reversal story that is Moon and Cherry.

Mayama knows Tadokoro will make for good material so she takes him home to create some copy. The deflowering scene is controlled by Eguchi with aplomb, and in a moment of directorial panache, while Mayama is performing fellatio, we see Tadokoro biting his lip to the point of drawing blood. I don't need to spell out the brilliance of that metaphor. As soon as Mayama pops Tadokoro's cherry she jumps out of bed and starts writing. Tadokoro is befuddled but doesn't complain too much. As the relationship grows, Mayama sees Tadokoro's inexperience as an opportunity to try new things like sending an S&M dominatrix to his apartment and then demanding Tadokoro tell her all about it. She invites him, followed by a pre-paid prostitute, to her place and then hides in the closet to watch the two of them go at it.

The only problem with completing this attempt at full on role reversal is the fact that Mayama is one of those women that men lose their minds over. There's no escaping that. Mayama has sex with Tadokoro in bed, on the floor, in the park, against a vending machine, but in between these events she disappears from his life. Tadokoro is torn but wants to make better use of his new found experience so he starts a relationship with a sweet and attractive co-worker, Akane, who serves as juxtaposition to Mayama. This sort of turns the film back on itself but I don't consider it a shortcoming at all.

Moon and Cherry is a very well-acted, creative and intelligent film that takes a different look at love, sex, and relationships. It's a low budget indie film shot on digital video as part of a Love Connections series of 2004 and it's a welcome opportunity to see the marvelous Noriko Eguchi star in a film. It's a smashing feature debut from writer/director Yuki Tanada who's gone on to script the female and visual extravaganza, Sakuran; write and direct Yû Aoi in One Million Yen and the Nigamushi Woman; and most recently write and direct the small masterpiece, Ain't No Tomorrows which I'll be reviewing soon.

A final shout out to newcomer Tasuku Nagaoka who plays Tadokoro with an awkwardly genuine sincerity. He's young and frail but never lets you think he won't make it, impressive in holding his own in scenes with the powerful Eguchi.

This could be a five star film but I don't think it wants to be. It wants to remain small and intimate. And independent. And even though it's one of the better films in recent memory, considered one of The Best of the Decade by a couple of the folks at Midnight Eye, I'm going to respect its wishes and give it four stars (9 out of 10 here at IMDb)

An erotic literature writing club? Now that's something new! The closing film for this year's Japanese Film Festival, given the audience's most positive reaction, I'm quite certain that this edition has closed with literally a big bang. While the premise might be refreshing and sexy, at its core is an unconventional love story between a boy and a girl, in a reversal of roles from the traditional way such characters will turn out to be. The boy, Sakamoto (Akira Emoto) is quite soft spoken and indecisive, while the girl, Mayama (Noriko Eguchi) is an alpha-female, who knows what she wants, and exactly what she must do to achieve her aims, and that includes sleeping her way for it.

Mayama is the writing club's only female writer, and a prolific one too, who writes under a pseudonym, and as fuel for her new novel, she engages the 21 year old virgin to the club, Sakamoto, in a cat and mouse game, using her to help translate emotions onto the written page. So while Sakamoto feels used (having his cherry popped), he can't help but fall in love with Mayama, whose games get bolder and more daring as she seeks to observe how Sakamoto's experience and sexual enlightenment can provide her with a new perspective to her literary works.

It's also a look at modern day relationships, and the question, to a guy, perhaps on what kinds of girls would you want to be associated with. On the other end of the spectrum, there's Akane (Misako Hirata), a fellow colleague at the bookstore that Sakamoto works in. She looks better, panders to Sakamoto's wishes, basically one of the modern day cutie pies with sugar so sweet it can give you diabetes just by hanging out with her. And I thought what it was quite spot on in its offering and comparisons of the two ladies, in whether you would prefer to love and continue your pursuit for that unattainable someone, or be satisfied with and loving in return, someone who loves you a lot more (note that I use the L-word here quite loosely).

Moon and Cherry is a comedy of epic sexual proportions, and its digibeta format and raw look and feel does bring back certain memories of the first American Pie. However, the only drawback here is that the lighting throughout the film looked somewhat dim, but don't let that be an obstacle to enjoying a sassy, fun movie. Don't expect many laugh-out-loud moments, though Moon and Cherry certainly has its charm in punctuating portions of the narrative with very placed humour that hits you when you least expect it to.