Fisshu sutôrî

A punk song with some very obscure lyrics ends up saving the world: a fishy story indeed, and in the beginning, I was afraid that 'Fish Story' would turn out as one of those wilfully bizarre Japanese films which seem to be driven by nothing more than the director's desire to make something odd, no matter how little sense it makes. But the idiosyncratic charm of Yoshihiro Nakamura's movie soon grows on you. An odd combination of low budget movie, comic book story and sci-fi, set over 40 years, it nonetheless feels surprisingly unforced, and the longer I watched it, the larger the smile on my face. I even liked the song.

I have to say, FISH STORY is a very strange film. It's a Japanese apocalyptic tale featuring four separate story lines that are woven together in such a way that'll have you scratching your head and trying to figure out how they all intertwine. It's all very low key, with zero sci-fi elements and an extremely slow pacing that's doubtless to put off plenty of viewers expecting something more, well, energetic.

However, something about this kept me watching. It's the sense of whimsy, perhaps, or the sheer long-winded shaggy-doggedness of the storytelling. The fact that the production values are high, the script is very funny, and the actors nail the characters, too. About halfway through, I relaxed a little when I realised I was enjoying what I was watching, and then I started having fun.

Things get better right up until the big reveal at the ending, which is so stupendously good that I can say, right here and right now, that FISH STORY features one of my favourite endings in a film, full stop. It's that good; a tremendous resolution, like that of THE SIXTH SENSE, that turns the whole film around and makes you realise that, actually, this is a great little film; unique and uniquely entertaining with it.

Japan 112m, Colour Director: Yoshihiro Nakamura; Cast: Vincent Giry, Gaku Hamada, Atsushi Itô, Kengo Kôra, Mirai Moriyama, Yoshihiro Nagata, Nao Ohmori, Mikako Tabe, Ken'ichi Takitô

It is 2012 and the world is about to end. An obscure Japanese punk song entitled Fish Story is possibly the only thing standing in the way of total annihilation of all life on the planet. The song, which includes a mysterious minute long break where the guitar solo should be, is cleverly interwoven into a number of intriguing stories throughout seven decades of seemingly disconnected events. As the end draws near, the stories are drawn together in spectacular fashion in the film's closing minutes. A brilliantly written, intelligent and charming multi-genre film, Fish Story is a tall tale brimming with fun, warmth and comedy that you will surely want to watch again, and again (Klaus Ming July 2013).

The characters of this movie each lives in different generations of Japan. The members of an unsalable band named "Gekirin", a timid collage student, a high school girl who is caught up in sea-jack. First their stories each go on without any connection, however, facing the world's end, their stories starts to link.

First, the structure of story is full of surprise. For a long time I like the original novel before watching this film. Sometimes movies which based on novels betray the original fans, this movie do not. The casts each suit the characters (especially I like Masashi!) and the song which"Gekirin" performs is taken charge of Kazuyoshi Saito and more than just a movie sound.

This movie describes an imaginary miracle but shows us the importance of taking an action actively. When I am puzzled with something, the scene of Masashi always inspires me with courage.

A comet hurtles towards Earth, and Tokyo is abandoned as people head to high ground. A cynical one-time guru comes across two otaku, a record shop owner and his customer, who believe an obscure seventies song, Fish Story, will save the world. Many years earlier, a timid young man laments his inability to stand up for himself. Some years after that, a narcoleptic high school girl finds herself trapped on a hijacked ship, where a pastry chef is her best hope for a champion for justice.

Director Nakamura fashions a likable, engaging human drama here, but deserves most credit for the naturalistic performances he elicits from his actors. Too often Japanese films are sunk by TV-style mugging from the principles, but here, there is a subtlety and nuanced portrayal evident throughout the ensemble cast. In the band, leader Atsushi Ito and Vocal Kengo Kora have betrayal and remorse to deal with between them. The tension is played out in a series of looks and never over-cooked. Kiyohiko Shibukawa as the drummer takes a while to speak, but when he does, it is with reason and tact. It would be so easy to have proto-punk band members sink into spats and histrionics. These portrayals resonate and convince. Gaku Hamada is especially effective as the meek friend who loses the girl (a spooky, sexy Mai Takahashi) to his overpowering alpha-male 'friend.' His tormenting of himself in the car after that particular episode is tragic and comic in equal degree, and proves the trigger to his redemption.

The portmanteau structure is an over-used trope these days and detracts from the drama here. However, the film succinctly ties it all up at the end, and visually too - the lack of expository dialogue here as compared to other J-cinema is refreshing. A wonderful soundtrack tops it all off, the best use of a song for thematic purpose since Gimme Heaven. "Summer Days" is now the anthem to my August.