Andando

A middle-aged brother and sister and their families visit their aging parents on the fifteenth anniversary of their brother Junpei's death from drowning while saving another boy. Relationships between generations are strained, however, and patriarch Kyohei (Yoshio Harada), a former doctor, does not hide his resentment for his surviving son Ryoto (Hiroshi Abe), an out of work art restorer. Selected as the best film at the Toronto International Film Festival in a poll of film critics and bloggers, Hirokazu Koreeda's Still Walking is a family-oriented comedy/drama about generational conflict and the consequences of loss. Unfolding in real time over a twenty-four hour period, it has been compared to Ozu's Tokyo Story in its intimate interchanges that accurately capture the way families relate to each other but lacks Ozu's warmth and subtlety.

The day is spent with routine activities such as preparing meals and playing with the small children. Kyohei remains detached and hides in his office, pretending to be occupied with medical business. He only emerges to bicker with his wife (Kiki Kinn) and play with his grandson. Ryoto, who did not look forward to the reunion, is put off by his father's disdain for his profession of art restoration and his coolness toward his new wife Yukari (Yui Natsukawa). She craves acceptance for herself and her son Atsushi (Shoehi Tanaka) from a previous marriage in which her husband died. A picture of the deceased Junpei is placed in the center of the Yokoyama family house reminding Ryoto that whatever he does, he cannot measure up to Junpei, who was to be his father's heir.

He also notices that his sister Chinami (You) has no such expectations and her life with her car-salesman husband and two children seems outside of the range of family conflicts. When the boy that Junpei rescued visits the family, sneering remarks are made about his bulky frame and lack of ambition and old resentments come to the surface. After Chinami and her family leave, it is clear that Ryoto wishes he had not agreed to spend the night but conflicts seem to soften with the passage of time. Based on a novel by the director and occasioned by the death of his mother and the discussions of his childhood they had during her last days, Still Walking has a sense of naturalism and simplicity that is endearing.

"Still Walking" aka "Aruitemo Aruitemo" Yet another superb delivery from Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Koreeda who gave us "Nobody Knows" in 2004. It's like we're eavesdropping on a private family reunion event. Central to the story is from the viewpoint of the second son, Ryota at age 40, going home to his parents' house via public transport with his new wife, a widow, and her 10 year old son from previous marriage. Yes, he doesn't own a car like his sister and brother in law. He's actually wary about hiding the fact that he doesn't have a substantial job and asks his wife not to breathe a word at the family occasion. His parents will be disappointed, especially his father who has counted on the second son to take on the family medical clinic business and be a doctor rather than any other trade - since the eldest died 15 years ago. Ryota has 'imprisoned' himself by these expectations which he is unable to, and frankly does not want to, fulfill. Underneath the pleasant bantering with his mother, we can tell he is struggling to find himself, make peace with himself and go on with his life.

Writer-director-editor Koreeda's passion provided us a close look (ever so casually, unhurried at its own pace so we get to be familiarized with each member of the family) on how a Japanese family might function on such a reunion gathering. We are put at ease watching mother and daughter preparing food in the kitchen, the whole family huddled around the meal table, the spontaneous exchanges. By and by, subtle clues are displayed and we may see the other side to each person's personality and hidden desires. Then there are pause moments to relish some family coziness or mother-son cordial exchanges. The storyline is far from 'flat' at its leisurely pace: "familiarity breeds contempt" or "absence makes the heart grows fonder" - either could be true. As the evening goes on, more aspects surface - be it mother, father, son, daughter in law, or grandson - we share their sentiments, satisfied or empathized.

"Still Walking" is a rich film. We are fortunate to experience it with so many levels rendered to us. I appreciate the reverence paid to the traditional family ritual of honoring the dead. Yes, a chance for a family outing, seeing Ryota and his 'new' family - wife and stepson - together is encouraging. The 'yellow butterflies' folklore is heartening.

The film also brings to mind quotes from Louise L. Hay's book, "Heart Thoughts - A Treasury of Inner Wisdom" on forgiveness (page 90): "We do not have to know how to forgive. All we have to do is be willing to forgive. The Universe will take care of the how." And on happiness (page 94): "Happiness is feeling good about yourself."

The theme music by Gonchichi is just right for the mood and state of inner peace - its guitar playing chords and melodic strains is quietly serene. What a soothing melody, giving the film a resigned, calming, happy with himself again leisurely tempo - simply apt to the story of "Still Walking." Visit the official site 'www.aruitemo.com' and you can listen to the music and check out 'Director's Statement' with Koreeda talking about his film.

This film by writer/director Koreeda is a triumph of simplicity. Telling the story of a family who meet annually to mark the death of oldest son Junpei at the parent's house, you're struck by how well this flows. The acting is uniformly very good and the story never lags. The best thing I found about this film is how it could have been done without a script, if the actors were given this scenario. There is bitterness, pettiness and even selfishness here, all earmarks of the subject matter. I found the stylistic similarities to Ozu films to be very touching and not a bit off putting. When I watched this film in a theater in New York, people applauded at the end. This is about as real life as it gets. Its a universal theme, not a Japanese one. My hat is off to the writer/director, its a fine film.

Still Walking is an intimate movie about a family reunion. Its observations about family dynamics are the most true to life I have ever seen. The movie paints the entire gamut of emotional family experience with delicate yet powerful brush strokes but it's not a sentimental film, nor an opportunity for actors to grandstand. It's Japanese, so all the strong undercurrents of emotion are held in check by equally powerful restraint (both cultural and directorial). A brother and a sister attempting families of their own go to visit their parents in Yokohama. The parents have lost a son and the family's devastation hangs heavy in the air. You can actually feel it bearing down on your shoulders from the first frame. Anybody who has ever spent the night at the house of relatives will feel the weight of family history that this film captures so truthfully.

The parents are engulfed by their quiet, ongoing grief and the surviving children resent all the attention given to the one who is not there anymore. The movie is surprisingly mordant, touching, cruel, sad, funny: human. The mother is this wonderful woman who cooks up a storm (I so wanted to be invited to that house). She is from an older generation, which means she has been forever in the shadow of her husband the doctor, cooking and cleaning and feeding the children, but she is not a pushover, nor a saint. She is mischievous, catty and petty, prejudiced, funny, generous and cruel at the same time. She is a marvel, and the actress who plays her is astonishing.

This movie has many emotional surprises that make the audience gasp, but they are presented with a sure, light touch, never falling into easy sentiment, never shying away from human complexity. It's a film about family, and love and duty and regret and it is stunningly beautiful.

Koreeda's Aruite Mo Aruite Mo is a consideration of family that is part homage, part vivisection. The comparisons to Ozu that have been made are fitting, the film a return to the Golden Age of Japanese film-making when a distinctly Japanese setting was employed to convey universal themes. The domestic setting, limited time-frame, and even knee-high camera placement all deliberately connote Ozu, but not so much to bow before him, as to re-invent him, to update or even evolve the form. Koreeda seems to have set out less to pay his respects to Ozu, as to surpass him.

Ryota brings his new wife and stepson home to to meet his family on the anniversary of his older brother Junpei's passing. The cycle of pettiness, accusation, pouting and recrimination soon kicks in, familiar theatre of family that will have people recalling Thanksgiving get-togethers, Hogmanany parties, Christmas fall-outs... The joy is in the details of Koreeda's observations, and the forceful animation of them by the cast. From the opening conversation between mother and daughter, playful banter on lessons never learned, wisdom refused, the tone of interdependence with tense undercurrents is set.

YOU as Chinami is more straightforward than her mis-maternal role in Nobody Knows, angling to move in with her parents by talking to her mother as a type, rather than as a person. Kirin Kiki is best known these days here in Japan for her comic outing in the Fuji film commercials. She excels there and here, sweet and doddering at one point, and yet scary, almost vicious at others, as when she reveals the depth of her loathing for Yoshio, the boy-now-man whom her son Junpei died saving from drowning. Her cool gaze upon her grandchildren is evidence of Koreeda's consummate ease in avoiding sentimentality. Hiroshi Abe holds up his end more than competently as the brooding Ryota. Recently 're-structured', he finds his conflicting roles as failed breadwinner, failed heir, struggling stepfather and less-favoured son all brought to salience in this one event. He is too proud to admit his jobless status, but not man enough to help his wife carry the bags. He reacts just as his father reacts to the shock of retirement, or his mother reacts to facing life's disappointments - by lashing out. He is a grown man in gaudy cheap pajamas bought by his mum. He competes with not one ghost, but two - his brother, and his wife's first husband. Who can shine in comparison with martyrs?

Families can be joyous and awful, and Koreeda captures that to a tee. The film seems to go on a beat too long, past a line on the bus that seems the natural ending, but then the final narration (reminiscent of Twilight Samurai) and graveside scene pull it all together poignantly. Granddad thinks they will be back at New Year - they won't. Chinami thinks her mother wants them to move in - she doesn't. Yoshio thinks he is welcome every year - he isn't. Families are destined to misunderstand each other. And yet the honouring of Junpei, the father cracking water-melons with his children, Granddad reaching out to his step-grandson - the succour of family is also portrayed here.

No one does bitter-sweet and elegiac quite like Koreeda, and in Aruite Mo Aruite Mo he achieves the quintessential mix that he was arguably striving for in After Life and Maboroshi. This is a film both comforting and challenging, that may just turn out to be Koreeda's masterpiece.