Tokyo Sonata

Tokyo Sonata resonates such simplicity in its telling that it's difficult to not like the movie. But in doing so, it also becomes victim of over-simplifying many of the issues its main characters face. The story is of a family of four: The husband has just been downsized, the wife is stuck in mundane mediocrity, the elder son doesn't have any sense of identity and the youngest is a rebel (he wants to play the Piano!). In an attempt to retain his honor and respect at home, the husband hides his jobless status from his family. He dresses up every morning for work, but instead spends the day in the queue for jobless for free food, or job placement. While the first act sets the characters and their dilemmas quite well, it's the second act where the movie really fails to connect. The younger son's fascination with his Piano Teacher and the elder's change-in-career weakens the story-telling before picking up again for a fascinating (and weird) third act, when the situations of the characters open up for all. Some bizarre turn-of-events brings the movie to a close that could be worthy of a rousing applause, but gets an awed gaze of amazement instead.

My Rating --> 3.5 of 5

Admin Chief and family patriarch Sasaki (Teruyuki Kagawa) loses his job to the forces of globalization (the Chinese can fulfill his role cheaper), but keeps it secret from his family. Domesticity, already tense and stifling, teeters on the edge of crisis. Oldest son Takashi, inhabiting a different temporal zone from the rest of the family, looks to find peace by going, quite literally, to war. Youngest son Kenji (Kai Inowaki) harbours escape plans of his own, through a burgeoning musical talent. Even put-upon wife and mother Megumi (Kyoko Koizumi) feels the pressure build inside her, and her escape will be the most dramatic of all.

The first 25 minutes of this tale crackle along in entertaining fashion. The various trials Sasaki faces in his quest for dignified employment are both sobering and amusing. In one sequence the action cuts with perfect timing from Sasaki being asked to perform a capella karaoke at a job interview, to Sasaki beating the hell out of accumulated junk at a soup kitchen. The comic tone is reinforced by the character of Kurosu, Sasaki's high-school classmate, who has turned unemployment and fooling the family into an art form. Or so it seems.

It is the abrupt change in circumstances for the ill-fated Kurosu that ushers in a new, darker tone for the story. At this point the writers go after poetry, with various characters articulating the futility of trying to regain the past. A cameo by Koji Yakusho attempts to reintroduce some comic thread in the second-half, though this serves to make the abrupt end of that particular character arc somewhat incongruous. In short, when the film goes after poetry, it falls flat. Takshi's utterances on Japan-America relations are clunky, and Kenji seems wise far beyond his years in commenting on his piano teacher's divorce. Quite why she chooses to open up to a 10-year-old is also a mystery.

The film throws everyone into crisis, and then brings them back at the end for temporary respite, in a scene that indulges sentimentality beyond acceptable limits. The journeys, not the outcomes, seem to be the thing. Especially Megumi's, in flight from the home to a place at the edge of the world, where she reaches for but can't quite obtain the light. Some will see this as a bold, lyrical choice by the filmmakers. For me it falls flat. Koizumi acts well with what she has been given, all the actors do, but these scenes are hauntingly lit interlopers with lines written by Samuel Beckett that seem to arrive from another film. If you accept that abrupt tone change after the first 25 minutes, you may celebrate this film. I found it too much to take.

Kurosawa films Tokyo evocatively, the family home sandwiched between the ever-present trains and similarly ubiquitous power lines. The acting is mostly top drawer, with only Yu Koyanagi as Takashi failing to keep his end up. The issues addressed are all-too-real for many in present-day Japan, and beyond – Tom Wilkinson's character in The Full Monty faced a similar predicament to Sasaki. Unfortunately, the philosophising in the second half is less than convincing, and the ending far too contrived. Kurosawa has said some of the laughter at Cannes was inappropriate. On the contrary, the decision to ditch the comic thread in the latter sequences of the film, and the non-linear portrayal of events, is where the inappropriacy lies. Five stars for the first half.

Tokyo Sonata tells the story of a changing Japanese economy, social culture and employment culture and it effects on family. Here it is excellently told by Kiyoshi Kurosawa (surprisingly no relation to the great Akira Kurosawa).

Ryûhei Sasaki (Teruyuki Kagawa) is a 46-year-old career man living in an industrial area of Tokyo with his family. Early on he looses his job when his department is out sourced to China, and he tries to hire the fact from his wife and children. Ryûhei tries to act normal whilst he spends his day at an employment agency, and waiting in the park with other unemployed people for free food. He meets a former schoolfriend, Kurosu (Kanji Tsuda), who also lost his job and hides the fact from his family. Kurosu gives Ryûhei tips on how to keep the charade, but the stress becomes too great on both men. Ryûhei slowly becomes more bitter and authoritarian at home. Ryûhei's family also suffer their own problems. His youngest son Kenji (Inowaki Kai) has problems in school, coming into conflict with one of his teachers, but he discovers his love and talent for the piano. He secretly takes lessons and his teacher wants him to audition for a music school, but this goes again his father's wishes in a Billy Elliot type sub-plot. Ryûhei older son Takashi (Yû Koyanagi) is more distance from his father, do small jobs, but he plans joining the American military. But again, Ryûhei forbids it, despite Takashi being old enough to make his own decision.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa tells a low-key, but compelling story. He often uses wide shot, giving the audience the feeling like a bystander in these people's lives. Using wide shot forces allows the actors to put real power in their performances with long continuous shots and does not allow the audience to get distracted by continuous editing. Kurosawa is able keep the film going with a fast pace and compelling despite it's low key subject matter. Kurosawa also casted some superb actors who are all wondering in their performances in this film. This is also a film telling some interesting aspects of Japanese culture. The Japanese economy is changing: the notion that someone could have a job for life is disappearing, and that the Japanese economy is suffering the same issues as Anglo-Saxon style economies. The film also acts as a commentary about the Japanese family, where it is portrayed in an old-fashion way, the man runs the house and controls the money, but this system is changing, with the whole family rebelling, and with other Japanese people having a more enlightened view. The third theme is also shown through Takashi about a changing view of America in Japan. The Japanese have in the past had a hostile view to the American military presence in Japan, with incidents like the 1995 Okinawan rape incident, but a younger generation haven't had to suffer this, and the Japanese view of military action is also changing. This film will give you a lot to think about.

Despite these good plots this film is far from perfect. By the end of the second and the beginning of the third act the plot starts to fall apart with some unrealistic events, which ruins the film overall. However Tokyo Sonata is a worthy film, showing that Japanese cinema is one of the best in the world. It also shows that Japanese cinema is more then just anime and violence manga adaptions like Battle Royale, which is also very very good.

The film tells the story of Ryūhei who is laid off at the start of the movie, due to his company's employment of cheap labour from China. Afraid to tell his wife and family, in fear that he will no longer have the authority and respect that he deserves, he pretends he still has a job and goes to work every day as usual. The film deals with the fear of losing everything one has in life. It deals with themes of dishonesty, pride, anger, fear, anxiety, rejection, suicide, rebellion, starting over, lust and in my personal view, the human need to depend on a system of laws and norms.

In its early stages, the film often tries to depict redundancy in funny moments. I loved the character of Kurosu, who tries to hang on to what he has left by looking busy and setting his mobile phone alarm to ring to show people how busy he is. It reminds me of what I did in the early stages of my redundancy and how it gave me a massive sense of wellbeing. He even invites Ryūhei to dinner, by asking him to act like a colleague at work and discussing a fake business meeting at the dinner table, while his wife and daughter are there. At this dinner, we learn that all is not what it seems and Kurosu's wife knows that something is not right. There is an uncomfortable silence in this scene, which suggests to the viewer that the good manners and politeness that the scene encompasses are only acting as a veil to prevent us from seeing what redundancy has done to this family. It is not long before the film takes a darker, more depressing turn as Kuruso and his wife, commit suicide. In reality it is very sad and true that some people will not survive job loss and will be so ashamed of their position, that they will eventually take their own lives. I think the director is very right to place emphasis on this, as many films that have been made about redundancy in the past, have failed to do so.

Based on my experiences, the film accurately portrays the emotions a person will go through after loss of a job. If I have one criticism of the film it is that it fails to addresses the issue of materialism and spiritual emptiness that many modern day white collar, office jobs encompass. There is an old saying, which I am sure many of the readers are familiar with, which says "the bigger you are the harder you fall". We are all part of a hierarchal society, a 'dog eat dog' world, where we want to go higher up as fast as we possibly can. We want to live under the veil of a middle class, bourgeoisie lifestyle, wear the best suits, have the best hairstyles, drive the best cars, eat the best food and live in the biggest houses. The cost of this though is that there is no guarantee that the profession that you have chosen, despite the fact that you have dedicated your life to it, with love you back but rather will resent you and leave you with nothing. I think that one of the main reasons why Ryūhei struggles with unemployment is his lack of spiritualism and dependence on such a hierarchical role for so long, until he has been made redundant. He is unable to find work, because his skills as a Administrative Director are no longer required. Therefore when he is made redundant, we really get to see how insecure the guy really is, not just in his work life but also his family life. He is the sole money provider in the house but is very rarely there for his wife and kids. He wants to maintain authority in the house and is afraid to lose power, whether it is to his elder son, who despite his parents requests, joins the US military or the younger son, who wants to learn how to play the piano. In most of the film, the character shows very little attention to his wife and kids and is only seen eating with them in moments of uncomfortable silence. In one moment after returning to work, he even ignores his wife's request to take her to bed, despite her being the only person who is actually holding the family together. The film takes a much darker turn near to its closing stages, with the stories of the wife, husband and younger son being looked into more deeply. We learn that they are all want to 'start over' again by somehow erasing their lives, in the wife's case (who becomes ashamed after finding out her husband is working as a janitor) wishing that her life was a dream despite originally and despite giving perception of caring angelic mother, we learn even she is capable of prejudice against her own loved ones. Without giving too much of the ending away, I will say that the family does eventually come to terms with the changes that it has gone through and things do get better over time.

I liked Tokyo Sonata, because it is one of those rare films that deals with a serious issue that very few people will truly sympathise with, unless they have experienced the situation for themselves. It is a wakeup call collar professionals and people in power, because is sheds light on how meaningless their lives are likely to be when the veil of 'normality' is lifted from their lives.

Salary man loses his job and in order to save face lives a lie to his family by continuing to set off to work as if all was normal. Meanwhile his wife detects the changes whilst his two son's grow further away from him.

The backdrop is the 2008 Japanese recession, and throughout we see suited figures walking ghostly across the screen, some looking for jobs, others like the lead character living their own lies. The movie doesn't pull any punches in it's damming portrayal of a modern Japan, throughout we see Tokyo portrayed as confined, gritty, cold and sterile. Gone are the neon and hyper kinetics of Shubuya or the affluent Ginza, what we have are job centre queues and homeless shelter camps.

What this movie also draws light on is a sense of masculinity in the modern age. We have the sins of the father resonating throughout this movie adding to a greater sense of tragedy.

Throughout Tokyo Sonata we feel as though the tragic nature of the storyline can only head in one direction, however whereas many tragedies shows art as destruction, here we have art as saviour.

A truly touching movie, the likes of which I haven't seen in a while. The movie doesn't wallow in it's own self pity, what is shows is that all our destined paths can only be walked by us alone, no matter what ties and bonds we have made along the way.

If every movie endeavoured to convey this stark yet simple message, then I'll be for that.