A Partida

Almost three decades since starring in Juzo Itami's classic The Funeral, Tsutomu Yamazaki once more shines in a tale woven around the rituals, traditions and theatre involved in Japanese death rites. The irreverence that makes Itami's classic such a delight is present here. Daigo's first day on the job playing a stiff in a DVD for the funeral business comes back to haunt him in hilarious fashion later on. However, there is also reverence, the film respectfully pointing out that the people who do this necessary but thankless task do not deserve the disdain and revulsion that their profession often attracts.

Daigo loses his job as a cellist, returns to his inaka roots and stumbles into a job as an undertaker. Too ashamed to tell his wife, he slowly warms to his apprenticeship under the masterful tutelage of Sasaki. As he goes about his business, the inevitable traumas of a childhood long forgotten bubble to the surface as he goes about re-acquainting himself with the town. The conduit for the negative feelings towards his profession is Daigo's wife Mika, who takes punitive steps on discovering his new employment.

Screenwriter Kundo Koyama has to take credit for a script that moves along briskly, juxtaposing black farce with raw tenderness, all done seamlessly, and acutely observed. Lipstick on a corpse produces gales of laughter, and you are reminded that sometimes the best fun is had at funerals. Daigo moves towards a form of reconciliation and redemption through the promptings of those around him, and the comfort of his cello.

It would be all too easy for material like this to lurch into sappy sentimentality, but the film tugs at the heartstrings without overtly manipulating its audience. Motoki has to take some plaudits for this for a performance that amuses at times but hints at deep inner turmoil at others. Hirosue is less consistent, at times indulging in the head-bobbing, giggly, saccharine sweet girlishness that is the forte of the Japanese TV drama actress. She has one line in the climactic scene of such stunning obviousness I am surprised it stayed in, but for the most part she redeems herself in the tense interactions with Motoki over their differing views on his new career. Overall, she convinces as the supportive but put-upon wife.

From Kurosawa's Ikiru through The Funeral and now Okuribito, Japanese cinema has a rich vein of movies that exploit the rituals of death. How those rituals comfort us, enchant us, and see us through to a place where the pain still exists but might come to an end, is laid bare in Okuribito. It is an absorbing, moving tale, full of laughter and tears, that celebrates the intricate details of a Japanese rites of passage while laying bare their universal function. Best seen in the cinema, to get the full effect of the luscious orchestral score.

By now almost everyone would have heard of this Japanese film Okuribito (Departures), given its win in the recent Academy Awards, clinching the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, beating the likes of crowd favourite Waltzing With Bashir, and the Palme D'or winner The Class. And now after watching it, it's no surprise really, because if I were to go tongue in cheek, it's the novelty factor, given that the Academy would never have conceived upon the notion that a film coming from Asia and filled with death, corpses and coffins, would be anything but a horror film. Seriously though, Departures have Awards written all over it, with fine acting complementing a strong story to tell.

I suppose the equivalent of a "casketer" in local context, would be the embalmer. And it's without a doubt a profession most misunderstood, and shunned because of our innate fear of death. We choose to avoid death where it had gone, and being an embalmer would unlikely be on any kid's wish list of professions. Despite the stereotypical negative connotations, it is a profession that is quite dignified, because the professional is entrusted with the responsibility of helping the loved ones of the deceased cope with the passing on, and to help ease the pain in bringing some colour before the final journey to either the burial ground, or crematorium.

Departures demystifies this profession in the Japanese context. And like all things Japanese, the process comes with an elaborate ritual of preparation, cleansing and presentation, all done with great precision, skillful grace and utmost respect for both the deceased, and the family members. The profession depicted here in the film, is one of the highest order, where we see exactly how the casketers go about their job, and the separation of duties with the undertaker.

Masahiro Motoki (last seen in The Longest Night in Shanghai) stars as the lead protagonist Daigo Kobayashi, a cellist in an orchestra who dreams of going places around the world with his wife Mika (Ryoko Hirosue) in tow. Unfortunately for him, his orchestra folds and he is forced to sell his expensive white elephant since he doubts he could make his passion into a successful career. Dejected, he convinces his wife to retreat back into the small town he came from, living in the house his late mother had left behind, in order to start a new life. Little did he know when responding to a job classifieds that a typo had given him the impression he would be in a career that involves travel. The boss of the shop Ikuei Sasaki (Tsutomu Yamazaki) hires him on instinct, and as the saying goes, the rest is history.

For the curious, the film is an excellent medium to showcase the profession and to do so in good light. We come to learn the craft behind the job, and the necessity of it all, be it dealing with grieving family members, or taking care of bodies that are bound for autopsies. Departures paints through Daigo's experience, the varying spectrum of emotions that one as a service provider would have to face, as we journey with him from novice level. All's not doom and gloom of course, as director Yujiro Takita paced the film with well meaning humour – again never slapstick or disrespectful – throughout the narrative.

The story by Kundo Koyama also excellently portrayed Daigo's relationships with his wife and with his mentor, where the former was like a rubber band waiting to snap because of Daigo's deliberate attempts to not tell his lovely wife what he's up to for a career in order to shield her from the taboo. With the latter from whom he picks up the tools of the trade from, there's a surrogate father figure which he never had while growing up, resulting in some pent up hatred toward his dad who walked out on the family when he was young.

It's an extremely moving piece of drama that doesn't get bogged down by melodrama, and I thoroughly enjoyed its themes of reconciliation, forgiveness and best of all, being a professional and serving with pride. It's a fantastically crafted film with an excellent cast all round, and shatters all taboos that come with the profession of a "casketer". I know it's cliché to say this, but Departures will be a strong contender when I compile my list of top films for the year. It's been some time already where I'm equally entertained and moved by a film, and without a doubt, do not let this depart from our local cinemas before you get a chance to watch it on the big screen. Highly recommended!

I have read many reviews on this movie and have been surprised by what I saw. I saw many reviews with comments such as this didn't deserve its Oscar win and that this movie was far from a masterpiece because it was too sentimental and exaggerated.One person proposed showing less scenes of him with the cello, speeding up the movie, and cutting out scenes with long stares. I disagree and believe that this movie is beautiful the way it is. This movie is not overbrimming with sentimentality; it has a good amount for such an emotional film. The scenes with the cello and the birds represent the passion and emotions he feel. We don't call Shakespeare's long poems sentimental so why do we call this work of Japanese art that? The more I heard the music I felt like the more I understood the movie. Western movies sometimes disregard time in movies allowing action to follow action. This movie was simply about the meaning of living knowing that we would die. The long, drawn out silences were necessary to convey emotions. If you have studied many Asian cultures, you know that they convey emotions not through words but through silence. The silences give us time to ponder and think about the questions raised, something we are often not given in bang bang action American films.As a musician, I feel like this whole movie is like song filled with much raw emotion.

It had been years ago since a movie moved me so much that it had brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn't keep my eyes dry while experiencing Okuribito. The story, acting, music and photography are all very impressive.

I guess everyone can in some way relate to the emotions that are conveyed in Okuribito. In my humble opinion this movie is a classic in the likes of Akira Kurosawa's and Yasujiro Ozu's best work: subtle, elegant, serene, soulful, touching and timelessly beautiful. This kind of cinematic storytelling stands high above the usual formula-driven, soulless, commercial Hollywood crap.

Many things can be told about this movie;How it remarkably handle the "Dead" issue, Meaning of life, family relations etc... But What I've mostly grasped from the movie is (I also witnessed that during my 6 months of stay in Japan) that the way the Japanese people do their job. Absolutely devoted, in perfect patience and discipline. No matter What they are doing and What the salary is... They could be a Waitress,a Garbage man or as in the movie; an encoffiner. They just concentrate and do their job. So if you got bored from your job, I simply recommend you watch this movie and compare yourself with the Guy in the Lead role.And think again.