Sharasôju

Shara is about a family living in a (beautifully shot) Japanese town, which is a bit devoid of the modern culture we'd expect from Japan. The people live in a traditional way, and prepare for the annual Shara-festival. The film begins with a beautifully long shot running through the city. Some years ago, the family has experienced a trauma, which they still cannot come to terms with. Everyone is still in denial and shock, and tries to put away their emotions by diverting their attention to something else: making a painting, organizing the Shara festival, etc. We follow the main protagonist, teenager Shun, through life and love after his traumatic youth. He's in love with Yu, who has to deal with her own family problems.

The turning-point in the film is the opening procession of the festival itself. It's really exciting to watch the dance with its clapping and shouting, especially in the torrential rain that suddenly starts halfway through. The contrast with the 'restrained' first hour of the film is enormous. After rain comes sun, which is symbolical for the family, maybe even in a cliché way. But it works! It's great cinema. Near the end of the film, a happy family event takes place, which brings hope for the future.

It's not an easy film to watch, it's very slow-paced, and some scenes with little activity take some patience to watch. But I think it brings you more on the level of the family and daily events in Nara (it's actually the birthplace of the director). And some beautiful long takes of the city are a joy to watch.

Don't be in a hurry, and maybe you'll experience a beautiful, quiet and spiritual film. (If you are in a hurry, please leave the cinema quietly.)

7/10, I'm not really sure yet

First and foremost, I thought the camera took on a life of its own, and drew a lot of attention to itself. It's free-wheeling, panning, tracking and zooming into noises that call out for notice. In some sense, it took on voyeuristic elements as it seemed we're right there with the characters and witnessing incidents as they unfold in the movie at first person's perspective. Not only that, Kawase has a penchant of incredibly long takes, not slow moving all the time though, but having scenes reveal themselves in one continuous shot. I would've imagined the nightmare during production should someone mess up, and the need to start over. Shots following characters also seem to be favourites, where it felt like we had to perpetually chase after the characters to follow on every plot development.

The story's nothing to shout about, as it looks at the lives of a household in Nara, Japan, after a member of the family mysteriously disappears, leaving behind mom Reiko (Naomi Kawase), dad Taku (Katsuhisa Namase) and their son Shun (Kohei Fukungaga). The opening shot's quite peculiar as well, as a slow moving camera rotates about in a room, as we hear continuous background chimes from the neighbourhood temple, with the voices of Shun and brother Kei conversing, and finally seeing them through window reflections, before a game of "follow me" turns into mystery, one which never gets resolved conclusively in the movie, unless you deem that the eyes from which we watch the movie, is from the eyes and perspective of Kei's.

Kei's disappearance is classic X-Files, just as how Fox Mulder had to deal with Samantha's own, and here we follow the family and how they each dealt with this - as one of the unseen characters puts it - case of "spirited away". Taku immerses himself in organizing the annual Basara street festival as its chairperson, while mom Reiko cultivates green fingers. Shun, blaming himself for losing sight of his brother, exorcises his demons through painting, and from the care given by girlfriend and neighbour Yu (Yuka Hyyoudo), who turns out to be living with her aunt. Even then, the theme of loss doesn't get forgotten, in another long talkie scene where Yu learns of how she came to live in a foster home under the guardianship of her aunt, in a rather incestuous tale that sounded a wee bit incredible, though surprisingly moving.

All's not doom and gloom though in Shara, in case you're wondering if this movie's slow pace would be your cup of tea, or whether you'll feel down after watching a sad movie. The movie ends off with a rather uplifting note of hope, where the anticipated birth of a child with a fine penis (yes, it was from the movie, OK?) lies in stark contrast with the mysterious loss of one in the beginning. In fact, things start to pick up (in pace even) after the Basara street festival scene, where before the narrative dealt with the mulling over Kei, and had generous allowance to set up all the principal characters.

And what a spectacle the Basara street performance was! Though it was highly repetitive, you can't deny the exuberant energy that the camera captured from the performers, entertaining all in a mesmerizing dance on the streets, which turned into a wet rain dance sequence under heavy downpour. If any scene would've stuck in your mind after you leave the theatre, this would be it, with a little wry scene where Shun had in his crowd control duties, inadvertently blocked the view of a cute knee-high tall child with his palm.

Shara turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable, and I now look forward to the documentary by Tetsuaki Matsue titled Summer Vacation with Naomi Kawase.

Zen, transliterated from Japanese, means 'to manifest the simple'. Easier said than done, starting with the basic acknowledgment that nothing is really simple in life. In the madcap terms of Zen, however, it means precisely that-nothing is simple in life. Better said, it's riding a horse, and there's no man on the saddle, and no horse under it. So how to convey nothing at all?

Well, look no further. This filmmaker, Kawase, is after my own heart, she nails it. She has a rather flat dramatic sense, but the rest is pretty wonderful.

This is some of the best cinematic Zen I know. It has the 'free and easy wandering'. It's visibly imperfect, relaxed but faintly echoes of melancholy. As with L'avventura, a disappearance is the tip of the thread. Nothing really happens, except between loss and new life, there is some life. The camera floats around corners of life, it takes you there. We marvel at different textures, types of light; gardens abound. Next to Sans Soleil, this is one of the best films to transport you to Japan.

It's simple. The idea, laid out early in a talk between the organizers of a dance street festival, is to convey a sense of joy and participation, it's to create out of nothing, in the streets, a spontaneous atmosphere. However, the spectator has to participate, that is you. In essence, it's the same idea that drives both meditation and Japanese tea. It's sitting down, letting what you think it should be all about flow out, so that, hopefully, you're left with what it all was in the first place.

In our case, it's the connection between people.

It's magical when it happens, on the day of the festival. Viewers will be puzzled by what the repetitive dance is supposed to mean, those more perceptive perhaps tying it to the Buddhist mantra chanted earlier in a temple. It means nothing, that's the beauty. It's there, like the dance in the film, to take you from humdrum life to joyful appreciation of it being what it is.

It's magical, because the dance is really nothing, they're doing (a whole troope) the same thing over and over again. And yet it's infectious, diffused in the air it shapes the experience. What you see is better than metaphor, it's transcendent-it actually transforms the weather.

Something to meditate upon.

A family will always remain a sacred institution for cinema if we take into account the depiction of families on silver screen.It is believed that American cinema and European cinema are known for their spontaneous portraits of family life.However,most national cinemas in Asia including Japanese cinema prefer to sketch a highly restrained description of family life.All erudite viewers have witnessed that in films by Ozu Saan.This is exactly something which viewers can experience in Japanese film "Sharasojyu" directed by renowned Japanese director Kawase Naomi.Her film can be termed as an extremely exquisite portrait of family life.Most filmmakers would evoke a birth and a death in their films to talk about human lives.However,Kawase Saan has gone a step further by choosing to depict in a charming reverse order a death /a disappearance and a birth to present her views about simple life in a small Japanese town.Her film appears admirably genuine and refreshingly honest as family tensions have been consigned to an inferior position to extract best performances from actors to effectively portray other human qualities such as community living and friendship.Many a times all viewers wish that a film must not remain a film but become life.This wish comes true in a particular scene when an entire town is dancing.One is not human if that dance sequence does not stir noblest of feelings in your heart and sad tears tinged with happiness on your cheeks.PS : Film critic Lalit Rao would like to thank a good friend Mr.Philippe Pham for having gifted a DVD of this film for detailed analysis.

Certain people are interesting. Most of these people have opportunities to portray their talents in the best way they can: in other words, most fascinating people are found in Hollywood. Asia does not have the benefits of America, but still now and then there appear some gold busters that know just how to capture that fragrant of our imagination quite well. This is such a case. Everything goes extremely slow as if Andy Warhol suddenly got reborn as a Chinaman, but that's exactly the art and magic of the movie. It fascinates but only at the ending one might fall asleep by the rhythm having gotten hold of them; but for the rest, wonderful movie.