Hana e Alice

"Hana & Alice" began as a series of shorts to promote Nestle's Kit-Kat candy bars. Through the genius of director Shunji Iwai, this evolved into not just a feature film but a darned profound one. In the DVD features he talks about how much of the movie was improvised, but it doesn't show. The end result is a very thoughtful, seemingly carefully-planned, poetic view of friendship, memories, and our individual yearnings for things that are out of our grasp.

The plot itself is very cute and interesting: a girl conspires to snatch a boyfriend by convincing the boy that he has amnesia and is in love with her. He's just dense enough to fall for it. But things get tricky when he starts asking questions, causing the girl to enlist the help of her best friend in deceiving him. It's a great comedy of Shakespearean proportions, but what makes it particularly fun to watch is the gorgeous way in which it's told.

If you're unfamiliar with the works of Shunji Iwai, this is a great place to start. He is a great, artistic director who does not necessarily get bogged down in poetry beyond the realm of mere mortals such as us. In other words, he has a unique visionary style that's not pretentious or overly "experimental". If I were to sum up his style in one sentence, it would be that he allows the scene to speak for itself without too many camera theatrics. You can expect to see long scenes without disruptive cuts, without much camera motion or with a simple, graceful, linear camera movement following the actors rather than jumpy "MTv editing". This is actually an approach used by several great Japanese directors I've seen, like Hideaki Anno ("Ritual") and Takeshi Kitano ("Fireworks", "Kikujoro") and perhaps it is derived from the master Kurosawa himself.

Something else worth noting is that the director composed all the music himself, furthering the idea that the presentation we get is very lucid and consistent with itself. The music compliments each scene as if telling the story, as opposed to background filler.

While the plot may seem straightforward, there's actually quite a lot of complexity under the surface. Each character is driven by some inner yearning, and their actions are not necessarily clear until you discover what drives each person. Thus, things remain unpredictable until the end, when you get a chance to digest why each person is the way they are.

There's fantastic acting all around, and both Anne Suzuki ("Hana") and Yû Aoi ("Alice") get a chance to shine. Hana's moment is in a powerful monologue near the end, while Alice's moment is in a gorgeous ballet routine which will stun you into silence.

Much like German director Wim Wenders' film "Lisbon Story" which began as a promotional spot for the city of Lisbon yet evolved into a poetic masterpiece, Shunji Iwai's "Hana & Alice" is just about the best candy bar commercial you'll ever see in your life.

In recent years, Japanese director Shunji Iwai has become the dark poet of adolescence, exhibiting a profound insight into how teenagers think and act, capturing the rhythms of their speech and depicting their not always smooth transitions from being a child to becoming an adult. Iwai's bleak 2001 film All About Lily Chou Chou dramatized the isolation and emotional torment that accompanies teenage bullying and the failure of modern technology to provide an outlet for loneliness. The polar opposite is Hana and Alice, his 2004 film just released on DVD, which shows the sweet, perhaps too innocent side of Japanese high school life without any hint of the turbulence displayed in Lily.

Written and directed by Iwai who also composed the musical score, Hana and Alice is a charming comedy/drama of friendship and conflict between two junior high school girls who fall for the same boy, depicting their gradually developing ability to handle complex emotional situations without the typical coming-of-age clichés. Originally filmed as three shorts for a candy commercial, Hana (Anne Suzuki) and Alice (Yu Aoi) are fifteen year old high school students and best friends. Alice is the more free-spirited and creative of the two, while Hana is more reserved but still quite playful. The two go to school each morning on the train, attend the same ballet classes, and are virtually inseparable.

On the train, they both notice a handsome student, Miyamoto (Tomohiro Kaku), traveling with a tall American-looking boy who they guess is his older brother. Hana, pursuing her new interest, joins the school drama club where Miyamoto just happens to be a member. Following him home after school, Hana watches in horror as Miyamoto, his head buried deep in a book and seemingly oblivious to the world around him, walks headfirst into a garage door and is knocked unconscious. Seizing the opportunity after coming to his aid, she tells him that his accident has caused him to forget that she is his girlfriend. She solicits Alice's help in pretending to be his ex-girl friend but the more convoluted the lies become, the more strain is put on the girls' relationship, especially when Alice develops strong romantic feelings for Miyamoto.

Hana and Alice is a beautifully filmed and often very funny film that features gorgeous cinematography by the late Noburu Shinoda, magnificent music and ballet sequences, and brilliant performances by Aoi, Suzuki, and Kaku. The film has many memorable moments including an enchanting five-minute ballet sequence, a tearful confession by Hana minutes before she is to go on stage to perform, a glowing photo shoot of the ballet class outside at night, a fight on the beach between the two girls, and Alice's loving visit with her estranged father. While the story is thin and feels stretched over 135 minutes, Iwai's subtle delineation of character and insight into adolescent life makes Hana and Alice a film to cherish.

Iwai's tale of friendship and love among 15-year-olds is a bitter-sweet affair, joyous and poignant in fragments. It is not a perfect film, but still imbued with enough of Iwai's visual flair and inventiveness to raise it above much of what Japan has offered up in the first decade of the 21st century.

Hana (Anne Suzuki) is inadvertently brought to Ma-kun by her best friend Alice (Yû Aoi). She utilizes an accident to convince clumsy Ma-kun (Tomohiro Kaku) that he has lost his memory and that she is the love of his life. The lie grows out of control, and sucks in the best friend. Alice, meanwhile, has her own troubles to contend with, namely an eccentric mother, disinterested father, and an acting/modeling opportunity that continually misfires.

Like Iwai's 'Love Letter', the essentials of the plot are intricately laid out, but ultimately matter less than the shot-by-shot, scene-by-scene poetry conjured up by camera, light and direction. There is one breathtaking shot in a classroom, when Astro Boy is revealed watching brazenly over a lover's tiff. The manga motif serves to underline the heightened emotions and extreme dramatics of the tale. Similar optical playfulness is employed when Hana watches Ma-kun on the train, seemingly in conversation with his girlfriend. That shot is matched later when we are optically fooled into thinking Ma-kun will kiss Alice. It is this continual ability to surprise and delight that means the 2-hour plus running time, while self-indulgent, manages not to feel too much of an imposition.

There are some wonderful set pieces to celebrate here. Alice's father making a complete mess of gifting his daughter a fountain pen is painful and hilarious. Ditto Hana's mother appearing in her undies before a shell-shocked Ma-kun. A klutzy classmate's photos of the girls in ballet tutus turn out to be magical. These scenes, stagy and contrived in the hands of a lesser mortal, are fluid, vivid and delightful when presented by Iwai.

It is testament to Iwai's genius that a host of A-listers line up for walk-on parts in this film. For example, Hirsohi Abe, used to playing leads, is practically an extra here when he shows up as the boyfriend of Alice's mum. What other living director elicits such reverence? Hana and Alice glows, quite literally. The film captures that vividness of passionate friendships and love first encountered that only the qualia of a 15-year-old knows. Ultimately, the running time is a shade too flabby to count it among Iwai's masterpieces (the plural is deliberate), but this is a subtle, complex film worthy of repeat viewing.

Hana and Alice are best friends about to enter high school. One day, they see Masashi, a boy about their age, on board a train. Alice develops a crush on him, though it is but a passing fad. For Hana, it is something more serious, and she begins to shadow Masashi, determined to make him her boyfriend. After he has an accident, Hana convinces him he has amnesia, and has forgotten that they are a couple. Matters are complicated further when Hana makes Alice pretend to be his ex-girlfriend; and further still when Alice and Masashi fall for each other. In the face of such drama, can Hana and Alice's friendship last?

Subtle and moving, Shunji Iwai's 'Hana and Alice' is a deceptively simple comic-drama speaking depths about the human condition. It is a striking picture, the subtly strong narrative of which is all the more incredible when one considers it began life as four short films celebrating the 30th anniversary of Nestlé's Kit Kat chocolate bar in Japan. A poignant character study, examining the personalities of two complex girls, Iwai's characterisation is rich and full of depth.

Both Hana and Alice are multifaceted, layered characters, with ambitions, faults and secrets. Though not immoral or unempathetic, they are not above using others to get their own way. Through Iwai's nuanced storytelling, a vividly realistic portrayal of these two characters is created. Manipulative, but charming, they are compelling, realistic cinematic creations, with fascinating backstories; and their tale is engaging.

Throughout the film, their friendship is put to the test. Iwai uses them to make a larger point about the importance of friendship, especially during one's formative years. He also delves into the complexities of youth, displaying great insight into the adolescent mindset. Hana and Alice are on the cusp of adulthood, a strange time when one re-examines one's life, readjusting priorities. Both Hana and Alice struggle; trying to act like adults, while suffering from a dearth of positive role models.

Alice's mother is far too concerned with her own romantic entanglements, while her father is distant and awkward. Hana's mother, meanwhile, seems disconnected from her daughter, focused on her work. At one point, she addresses Masashi as Hana, seemingly not recognising that he isn't, in fact, her daughter. It is no wonder that Hana and Alice create fabulous lies when they have no-one offering them guidance.

It is an affecting picture, not to mention a funny one. Iwai's dialogue is witty and many sequences will have viewers- possessed of a certain sense of humour- grinning from ear to ear. Additionally, it is a strikingly shot film, containing artful cinematography from Noboru Shinoda. His muted work is couched in the traditions of realism, yet has a certain stylized edge to it. It is as if the film were shot as a reflection of life in a carnival hall of mirrors; visuals projecting a slightly heightened version of reality, carrying much emotional weight.

The mournful score, from Iwai himself, doesn't just complement these visuals; it heightens them, compounding their dramatic power. Further, it is well-edited film, with Iwai establishing a steady pace from the beginning. Although some criticise it as being overlong, even at two hours and fifteen minutes, in the company of Hana and Alice, time flies.

Anne Suzuki and Yu Aoi star as Hana and Alice, respectively, delivering two remarkable performances of depth, wit and nuance. Whether delivering impassioned monologues- as Suzuki does masterfully in the latter half- or performing ballet- like Aoi, beautifully, in the last act- both of them impress greatly. They'll have you laughing and crying in equal measure. Alongside them, Tomohiro Kaku does fine work as Masashi, while Sei Hiraizumi is great as Alice's father, in a solitary- but memorable- scene.

A compelling character study, Shunji Iwai's 'Hana and Alice' offers viewers a profound meditation on the complexities of youth, friendship and love. Funny and sad both, its narrative- and the characters involved- are engaging, while the cinematography and score are memorably striking. Strongly acted- especially by stars Anne Suzuki and Yu Aoi- it is a heartfelt and heartrending comic-drama that is well worth a watch.

2 teenage girls who are best friends are into the same boy ... Coming from Hollywood such a movie would be shallow for sure, in the style of numerous other high school comedies. Japanese director Shunji Iwai, however, managed to make a movie out of this material which has a lot of depth, a movie that is rich of subtle, moving moments. Rather than showing a simple love story, the focus of the movie is clearly the two girls and their friendship, and how it is being put on the test. Hana and Alice are simply adoring when they quickly come up with another hilarious lie to back up each others made up stories. On the other hand, their love interest is slow and passive most of the time, it seems like he is sleepwalking at times. Unlike Hollywood movies it's a lot about the unsaid, and be prepared that not everything is explained. The film never becomes sentimental nor too heavy, because the drama is lightened up with quite a bit of humor. A very watchable movie indeed ...