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.

"Okuribito", literally "The person who sees off", is about a supposedly untalented cellist's new job. After returning to hometown as a failure in the music world, he applies for a job with vague description. It turns out to be a job posting for "encoffiner", a person who performs rites and rituals before placing the body into the coffin. A 'tainted' job in the eyes of the society, but he eventually develops pride and purpose in this profession.

The movie started with subtle humor that had me chuckling for first hour, but I was slowly drawn into the story. It turned out to be a very touching and deep film.

The acting in this film was superb. Motoki Tomohiro's performance was especially amazing, hilarious at times, and played the serious and professional scenes very convincingly. I also really liked his narration, which really sets the mood and tone of the following scenes. Yamazaki Tsutomu was also excellent as the protagonist's cool mentor. The film had incredibly nice flow and very well-directed. Music in this movie played a huge role, expressing the protagonist's feelings and harmonized with every scene. It was simply beautiful.

This movie gave me a glimpse of the profession of "encoffiner", as a very respectable job, as it requires absolute accuracy, professionalism, and the respect for the dead even though it is looked down by the society. It is the encoffiner who sees off a person's last journey after dressing them up. This movie successfully depicts the pride in one's job, and questions the meaning of death.

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.

Fixating itself on the pretext of death as a strong stigma to the Japanese rather than on the necrophiliac titillation possessed by those outside this particular societal circle, "Departures" approaches this issue with credible poignancy made more relevant when seen as a mitigation by director Yojiro Takita and screenwriter Kundo Koyama to a prevailing Eastern taboo. Although slightly undercut by an ultimately predictable script, Japan's Oscar-winning entry for this year's foreign-language film category is thoughtfully expressive, portraying a morbidly incriminating profession with dignified grace.

Daigo (Masahiro Motoki) is a cellist for a symphony orchestra which disbands after a performance for failing to gather audiences. Having no job, he and his wife Mika (Ryoko Hirosue) move to his hometown in his deceased mother's house where, upon answering a help-wanted ad he mistakes for a travel agency, he ends up as "encoffiner"-in-training, helping his boss Sasaki (Tsutomu Yamazaki) perform a set of ceremonial rites for the dead before cremation. Aware of the social demonizing of such job, he lies to his wife about it until she learns of it anyway and pleads that he finds a "normal job," an appeal he finds tough when he increasingly develops a meticulous fondness for his work.

Takita's charming and ultimately touching apologetic on mortality charts the disorderliness arising from an individual's social circle while he pursues his sense of purpose, with the titular itinerary suggesting more than the moribund ritual the film's protagonist is subjected to. Thus, it also becomes a plaintive meditation on Daigo's spiritual and moral development as he attends to the various abandonment issues that haunt him (a father who ran off when he was young and a wife that stigmatizes him for his newly found "filthy" career). Ultimately, "Departures" is as much a story of atonement as it is about dealing with mortality; that in order to fully embrace one's existence, it is necessary to cope with death -- both literally and figuratively -- while nurturing the bonds that exist among those who still live.

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.