Charisma

Another fascinatingly enigmatic film by this unique filmmaker that is bound to enthral and confound in equal measure! A contemplative, profoundly philosophical work that, perhaps, suggests there are indeed more ways to skin the proverbial cat! Detective, Goro Yabuike's (Koji Yakusho) fateful decision to not kill the armed, note-brandishing terrorist proves existentially calamitous! His earnest wish to help both the victim and perpetrator echoes cryptically throughout the dazzling film until its uncommonly powerful conclusion. Kiyoshi Kurosawa's immaculate screenplay is a heady, thought provoking delight, his matchless filmmaking is consistently assured, ably complemented by a no less refined, undeniably soulful performance by the vastly talented, Koji Yakusho. The thoughtful philosopher cop Goro undertaking his seemingly implausible task of having to "Restore the Rules of the World" frequently provides film fans with a wealth of intriguing surrealistic interludes, at times, for me, 'Charisma' occasionally recalled the early, more avant garde experimentation of Fassbinder.

Some sources have called Charisma a "thriller". Fangoria, the horror magazine, had Charisma on its "Video Chopping List", which should imply that it's at least a thriller, if not horror. They also ran a review of it online. The Netflix summary--although they are notoriously way off base, so one should know to take them with a pound of salt--described Charisma as "an existentialist eco-thriller". Although there are a couple nifty deaths in the film, it is not at all a thriller or a horror film. It is basically an art-house drama centered on a tree. There are hallucinatory aspects, there is humor, and we could generously say that there's a lot of "poetry" to the film. But the only relationship that Charisma has to the more macabre and suspenseful genres is that as a Japanese film, it shares a disregard for linear logic similar to many Japanese genre films.

The story concerns a detective named Goro Yabuike (Kôji Yakusho). After an odd screw-up at work that resulted in the death of a member of the Japanese Parliament, Yabuike is put on a leave of absence. He decides to head to a forest. For some strange reason, he doesn't come prepared, he has no place to stay and he walks around in his everyday street clothes. He starts off by sleeping in an old car until it's set afire. He happens upon a scrawny tree that's supposedly incongruous for the area. A metal, tubular framework surrounds it. There are IV bottles and tubes hooked up to it. Apparently some guy is guarding it and chases off anyone who gets near it. Yabuike meets the tree's keeper. He meets a woman botanist. The keeper and botanist are arguing about the merits of the tree and whether it is killing the forest. Yabuike keeps bouncing back and forth between the two, getting filthier all the time. Each wants him on their side. He gets somewhat involved with a woman who seems like the botanist's sister. A bunch of commando-looking guys keep showing up, trying to take the tree for commercial purposes. Yabuike keeps getting into strange situations, people always show up in the nick of time from out of nowhere, and people keep eating plants in the forest that are maybe poisonous and maybe hallucinogenic. The bulk of the film, when there's some kind of action, consists of people "arguing" back and forth about the tree, alternated with strange non-sequiturs in the dialogue and plot.

As you've probably discerned already, it's not exactly easy to describe the content of the film. That's because it doesn't exactly make much sense. Westerners might assume that there's some deeper cultural context to the film, that maybe it speaks of some current events in Japan and/or invokes some well-known mythological or artistic references, but in director Kiyoshi Kurosawa's interview included on the DVD, it sounds like the film was simply precipitated by the emerging environmental movement in the late 1980s (he admits that the script is 10 years old), and that he later tried to graft some "human drama" onto it. Kurosawa adds that he's not quite sure what the film is about, and he's not sure if it works. I don't think it works, either. The story is not at all compelling, it tends to drag too much in spots, and the lack of exposition and logic end up hurting more than helping. My wife ditched out after a half hour.

But, I wouldn't say it's a complete failure. There are interesting elements here that might make Charisma worth watching for viewers with particular kinds of interests, as well as die-hard fans of Japanese cinema.

The most conspicuous asset is that Kurosawa is amazing at visual composition. If I were to recontextualize Charisma as something more like a series of still photographs--still with moving elements, if that makes sense--it would easily get an 8. Almost every shot is very rich compositionally. Kurosawa must take incredible care in getting his actors placed and moving to the exact right spots--otherwise known as blocking--with complex, varied sets and background elements that usually create multifaceted visual paths for your eye to wander around. He has interesting combinations of objects, colors and textures, and often takes great care in ensuring that there are multiple elements in motion--things like water, smoke, blowing curtains and so on. There will often be several layers of this. He tends to place the camera unexpected distances from his actors. A lot of shots are wide and stay wide and motionless for a whole scene. There is a relative absence of close-ups. He also uses lighting in very unusual ways. All of these unique approaches tend to work, with the sole exception of some of the darker scenes, or scenes with a bit too much backlighting. If you have any interest in visual composition, Charisma is worth checking out for that alone.

Also interesting are the subtextual and metaphorical aspects of the story. Whether intended or not, Charisma is rich with this material, partially aided by the film's ambiguity. Starting from a more literal level, the story can be seen as gradual working toward redemption for Yabuike. He ends up redoing the event that brought him to the forest, only this time he gets it "right". More abstractly, the Charisma tree and the events surrounding it can represent everything from mass human interaction with a unique, individualistic human, to a parable about "natural law", to a polemic against imperialistic nations in the world, perhaps even the U.S. There are also numerous suggestions throughout the film that the forest is some kind of alternate reality, perhaps even Hell. We never see anyone leave, by the way, even though they talk about leaving. These ideas are intriguing, but they all require the viewer to do a lot of work; the film can be a catalyst for them, but that doesn't help make the film entertaining or compelling.

Proceed with caution on this one.

Charisma shows another side of Kiyoshi Kurosawa's talent. The forest contrasts deeply with the industrial environment of License to Live, yet Charisma's symbolic analysis of the Japanese society's fears and latent insanity is much more acute. This movie is also one of the few which show the collapse of both individuals and society so intimately. It takes even more sense in the perspective of the Millennium Fear, even if this theme is not explicitly named in the movie. All in all, Charisma is certainly a movie to discover.

Charisma begins with a conundrum that intrigues me, a hostage situation where a cop points a gun at a young man holding at gunpoint a politician with the demands, scribbled on a scrap of paper, "to restore the rules of the world", and will the cop carry out justice or will he recognize another kind of justice already unfolding in front of him. The cop walks away, because he feels sympathy for both victim and victimizer as he later reveals to his superior, and the film quickly shows that non-action or a refusal to be involved in the world, compassion from a distance, has dire consequences.

Kurosawa seems to be concerned here with the law of nature, the ways of the world. If life is a game with stakes of life and death, how do we play it and how does it reflect on the universe. The phrase "the rules of the world" is repeated later in the film, it's a linchpin holding themes together, but how does the film pursue this broad philosophy, does it poetically infer something important?

The cop protagonist is brought into a mysterious forest world, which is threatened to be tipped off balance by a rare toxic tree. It doesn't take a lot to understand that this secluded ecosystem stands for the world at large but I like that Kurosawa readies him for this existential playground by stripping him of manmade identity, this contract established between the individual and society, preparing him for an initiation process where the self will be reinvented, born anew with new perspectives.

It's downhill for me from this point. Kurosawa pursues his argument by a schematic representation, by an obviousness of symbolism, by characters drawn to clearly stand in opposites who literally speak out their role in the film. A character wants to destroy the tree to save the surrounding ecosystem, another wants to protect it because it's unique. We understand this, but they go on to tell the camera.

Kairo's strong card for me is the grand guignol representation of an abstract world, the stage of a horror theater where the self is dissolved. In Charisma, Kurosawa reaches for a similar absence of logic but only as means of formulating logic on a secondary level, by an allegory of "this stands for that". I like the fact that I'm watching a film morally and aesthetically preoccupied, one that tries to grapple with ideas, but it's not a surreal film, and it doesn't evoke a picture of a meaningful world by poetic means, rather it draws one by rational ones.

This illustrates the failure of allegory for me. An allegoric world is an abstraction of a part of the world we recognize, with the abstraction used to concretely talk about that part. The basic means are cryptic as opposed to poetic. Once we grasp the key that abstracts, it's no longer a challenge.

The cop wavers between the two sides, until he settles for a point of view that encompasses both. This balancing act of selective involvement that upsets the rules in the world of the film and brings chaos can be meaningful, if we accept that a new world can only come to pass through the fires of destruction.

Philosophy by means of an allegory makes for a boring film for me, and more, for a film that doesn't stimulate the senses, but invites pen to paper in an effort to decrypt a riddle.

It's a difficult film, but not very bright.

This is one of the strangest, complex films I've ever seen. When you read the synopsis, you'll probably realise that the writer and director, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, is working on many different levels, and you'll equally stay involved with the story due to the outstanding visuals. Kurosawa's camera work is typically brilliant, allowing the viewer to escape into the mysterious rural Japanese landscape.

Part philosophical drama, part social study, part ecological investigation, part surrealistic, Kafkaesque black comedy, Kurosawa has clearly crafted a film that demands repeated viewings. My first viewing was focused on the ecological themes present throughout the film; the whole idea of man's control over nature, without realising that nature doesn't reason. It just is. Applying Spinozan logic, nature is the infinite essence of the universe and doesn't need controlling. Nature doesn't act out of emotion and reason; it is perfect and simply is. There's just so much more thematic material open to interpretation so it's hard to place one specific genre to the film, but Kurosawa skillfully builds up disturbing dramatic moments with his trademark perfect camera work, boasting stellar cinematography of the Japanese landscape.

The film might not be my favourite, but 'Charisma' is certainly up there as one of Kurosawa's best films. If you're interested in strange but nonetheless interesting examinations of reality, then be sure to check this one out.