November 30, 2011: “American Pastime”

There is this prejudice I just have to get over, and that is that I have it in my mind that I hate any film that has a sports orientation. Although a rather harmless one, and certainly only affecting me,  like most prejudices they exist only in the mind, have little to do with reality, and invariably limit growth. So, there were these two movies on the library shelf that I have been avoiding forever, even ‘tho I was pretty sure that a part of me would really like them. The first was “Invictus” that I saw last month. Loved it. C’mon. Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela? One of my most favorite poems in the title? Why did I wait so long? And, after that experience, why did I wait another month to try “American Pastime?” Why? Well, that’s the part of myself  I struggle with.

“American Pastime” begins as a an American utopia: it’s title sequence uses a blend of documentary footage of 1941 combined with movie stills to tell a quick story of a group of young integrated friends as they grow up in California. The movie starts as these friends are hanging out upstairs, talking about their loves: jazz, baseball, and their favorite movie stars. Their parents are downstairs organizing a cookout for them all. I love the quick pan of the food on the table where you get to see corn on the cob, spaghetti with sauce, and riceballs (and what I think is okonomiyaki!!!) all together on one table. This is an America that was supposed to be. Unfortunately, December 7th, 1941, the “Day of Infamy,” changed all of that.

Within the first few minutes of the film, the Nomura family (father, mother, and two teenage brothers) are packed up, along with 120,000 others of Japanese-Americans, told to sell all they own, and are shipped off inland, the Nomuras to Utah to be interred in the Topaz Relocation Center.

I’ve written about this black chapter of American history before in my article “Kiri’s Piano” and I readdress it here, because I still find it hard to believe that America interred it’s own citizens with no proof of collusion with an enemy. Yes, America was at war, but we were at war with the Germans and Italians at the same time, yet only Japanese-Americans were interred.

The Nomura family, along with their fellow internees, try to form a sense of normalcy in their new and rather bleak surroundings. The deal with the bigotry of not only their guards, but also a few of the townspeople, as they go into town to buy supplies to improve their camp. One of the things I like about “American Pastime” is that the bigotry is dealt with in a realistic way. They show people the way they really are: not every one of the townspeople is hostile, some of those who are, change to the better. Some will simply, never let go of their hatred. The bond that all the people have in common is the game. Baseball is the cultural glue of the American people and as long as you play well (physically and ethically) it doesn’t matter what your heritage is. Dignity and mutual respect can be achieved through excellence.

“American Pastime” is not a perfect movie. It tries a little too hard to stuff many worthwhile topics into the film: bigotry in time of war: issues between fathers and sons, between brothers, between lovers: all very noble topics, but a little too much for one film. Still if you like dramas based on real life, or (unlike me) have no issues with sports films, “American Pastime” could be the film for you.

Check out the “making of” part of the DVD. They interview some of the Japanese-American heroes of the 422nd Regimental Combat Team (the  most decorated in US Armed history.) They also interview the actors, and to quote one who sums up well the notion that dignity can come through a game says, “There are more important things in life, but sometimes it takes a game to understand them.”

June 30, 2011: Akira Kurosawa’s “Ran”

Here’s a premise: take an ancient Celtic legend of a semi-mythical King of Britain (“King Leir”), then have this rewritten 500 years later by the bard William Shakespeare (“King Lear”), then let this steep in literary consciousness for almost 400 years, then have one of the greatest directors of the 20thC. rewrite the story, mixing in a real life 16thC. Japanese historical figure and a “Noh” theatric style. THIS is “Ran” (1985) directed by Akira Kurosawa, as his last truly epic film.

Much like “Saving Private Ryan” “Ran” is a film about a war, but focusing on the ultimate futility of war. Unlike the character of King Lear in Shakespeare’s play, who is basically innocent but gets caught up in the machinations of those around him, the King Hidetora in “Ran” is guilty of horrible crimes against his enemies. He  has built up a karmic debt for all the misery that befalls him and is eventually forced to revisit all of his past violent deeds. Also, unlike “King Lear” in “Ran” instead of daughters showing filial honor/dishonor, it is sons, neatly color-coded to be able to track their armies. Taro (yellow) is the oldest and is first bequeathed the kingdom by Hidetora. Second oldest is Jiro (red) becomes a contender to Taro’s inheritance. Both these older sons pretend devotion to their father, but the minute he relinquishes power, they try to totally exclude him from his own kingdom. Hidetora’s youngest son, Saburo (blue) is truly respectful and  loyal to his father, but is not perceived so by Hidetora, because Saburo tells his father the truth, not what he wants to hear.

Much like the Shakespeare play, “Ran” is full of delicious minor characters that flesh out the play. There is the clown, Kyomi, who has both funny and poignant moments. Lady  Kaede is truly Machiavellian: a physically and mentally worthy villain, and one of the strongest woman characters in cinema. As evil as she is, Kaede acts not without reason as Hidetora has destroyed her family. Kaede is offset by Lady Sue, while suffering the same loss at Hidetora’s hands, has adopted Buddhist ways and is a truly good and forgiving person. My favorite is Kurogare, Jiro’s vassal, who constantly gives the best advice (that Jiro foolishly never takes)  and pits himself against the evils of Lady Kaede.

“Ran” which means “chaos” or “revolt” has some of the best battle scenes in cinema. Grand in scale, it’s hard to believe Kurosawa could pull a film of this magnitude off in a pre-digital era, like: building a $1.5 million castle just to burn it to the ground! 1500 extras, 250 horses, beautiful costumes, gorgeous sets, “Ran” is huge!!! If you want to see a film the way they used to make them (and really never will again) see Kurosawa’s “Ran!”

May 12, 2011: Movie Review “Grave of the Fireflies”

I’ve never been a huge anime fan, but I try to stay open to film styles in general. I remember seeing “Spirited Away” (2001) in theaters and enjoyed it, so when I found consistent high ratings for “Grave of the Fireflies” (1988) I was intrigued.

The story is set place  in Japan, 1945, at the end of WWII. The main characters are Seita, a boy of about 12 years old and his sister, Setsuko who is about 3-4 years old. I’m not giving anything away by saying that the whole film is a series of events before the two children’s death, as Seita’s first words recount that this is the night he died and with Setsuko’s absence, her death is implied as well. So, I want to be upfront and say that “Grave of the Fireflies” is not the most “cheery” film out there, but rather, is a poignant study of effects of war on innocents and the nobility of humans struggling under hard conditions.

The city of Kobe, where Seita and Setsuko live, is firebombed and they lose their mother. Their father is absent serving in the military, so they are sent to their aunt’s house in Nishinomiya. The unsympathetic aunt plays a kind of subtle wicked stepmother who resents the added burden of the extra kids in a time of shortages of war. Seita picks up on this, and has the idea of moving he and his sister to a nearby shelter in the woods. At first, this is a kind of an adventure which gives the children freedom to explore  life in kind of Tom Sawyer way. They have time to establish themselves, experience nature and reminisce about the better times of their life. They find  a nearby field full of  fireflies that they capture to fill their shelter with their light. The next day, as Setsuko is burying the dead fireflies, Seita finds out that the aunt has told Setsuko that their mother is dead (something Seita desperately wanted to spare Setsuko.) Eventually, conditions decay. Despite Seita’s best efforts, Setsuko is wasting away from malnutrition and soon she dies.

Despite this rather morose setup, “Grave of the Fireflies” is, surprisingly, a film about the beauty of those simple moments of life that we all take for granted: playing on the beach, the sour taste of  pickled plum, chasing butterflies, the playfulness of our children, the sweet taste of fruit drops, the memories that fill our life…and if you’ve ever spent a night in a field of fireflies you understand the magic of nature. All this, and more, is packed into “Grave of the Fireflies” while not ignoring the sadness inherent in life.

“Grave of the Fireflies” is not quite a perfect film. Viewers will find at least one major logic flaw that momentarily  detracts from the story line, but what the film lacks in logic, it makes up for in heart. One comment that I have read over and over is that “Grave of the Fireflies” is one of those films that sits with the viewer for some time after. It is based on the novel by Akiyuki Nosaka who, during the war, lost his younger sister to malnutrition in a similar way that Seita loses Setsuko. The novel was Nosaka’s way to come to terms with this.

I’ve always considered that fireflies were (at least partial)  inspiration to the plethora of Edwardian faery stories. Certainly, any creature that manufactures its own light to shine as a beacon, as it flies through the night air, is envocative of many things to the human imagination: magical spirits, ghosts, the soul, etc. As she is burying the fireflies, Setsuko asks Seita “Why do all the fireflies die so soon?” A very human question indeed…but, of course, we are all fireflies.

March 08, 2011: Kurosawa’s “Seven Samurai”

When I found my library stocked Akira Kurosawa’s “Seven Samurai” I was psyched! When I found that this Criterion Collection had 3 DVDs stocked with extras including a tag-team of different commentators, and several documentaries about Kurosawa, I was even more excited! Imagine having everything I could possibly want to know about one of the greatest films, by one of the world’s greatest directors (“SS” was one of Kurosawa’s personal favorites.) Before you see “SS,” try to get the Criterion version which has the full 3+1/2 hours of Kurosawa’s vision. I know, 3+1/2 hours of a foreign film seems like a lot, but honestly, when it was over, I could have easily watched more. Most of the reason it has to be this long is “SS” has many good characters (in addition to the main seven samurai, there are many villagers) who play important roles and are worth every bit of Kurosawa’s rich exploration and development.

“Seven Samurai (1954)” is considered by many to be the greatest Japanese film ever made. It revolutionized Kurosawa’s career and allowed him to make the “Jidai Geki” or “Period-style Film” truly his own. “SS” went on to inspire many films, (the first being its American remake “The Magnificent Seven” 1960.)

The story takes place in 1467, feudal Japan, during a time of civil war. “Ronin” or masterless samurai, threaten to sack a village of farmers as soon as the harvest is in. The farmers, incapable of defending themselves, attempt to bribe other starving “ronin” with their meager supplies of food too help defend their village, when the time comes to do so. The villagers are impressed with the heroic actions of Kanbê (played by Takashi Shimura) a samurai who rescues a woman and her child from a kidnapper, by posing as a Buddhist monk. Kanbê proves to be everything right with the code of Bushido (warrior code of ethics of a samurai) he lives by. He is wise, strong, even-tempered, kind, patient, funny, a brilliant strategist, and a perfect leader. He puts other ronin through trials to test their spirit and ability and soon comes up with a team of seven to help the villagers. Each of these has a distinct personality and ability that adds to the group. These skills will all come into play as the bandits raiding the village outnumber the samurai about 6:1!

This film has been criticized as being anti-democratic, but I think that falls a little flat considering the time period Kurosawa made this. Certainly, a anti-democratic film would do nothing for Japan, at this time, and would have been a flop in foreign markets, if this were true. I think “Seven Samurai” is a film about people at their best: individuals who come together with stoicism under hard times. The seven become a group to protect the defenseless with strength, honor and integrity. The film actually shows the flaws of a feudal caste system and the ultimate downfall of the samurai because of them.

A suggestion: watch it through and then watch it again with the commentary, which is full of insights of Japanese culture and history and tons of film facts! While doing research for this article, I found another remake is in production this year, set in modern day Thailand. No, PLEASE! Not necessary! I guess Hollywood is running outta good stories!

…and if the term “Jidai Geki” seems a little familiar to you, so did it to me, as well. A little checking on the “Star Wars” fanboy sites confirmed that this is where Lucas came up with the term: “Jedi!”

October 17, 2010: Kobayashi’s “Hara Kiri”

Although, Masaki Kobayashi’s “Hara Kiri” is a dramatic and telling film, let’s get two problems with it out of the way: the first is the title. I recognize that “Hara Kiri” (literally “slit-belley”) was probably a more known term, by Westerners, as the name for the Japanese ceremony of “seppuku” or ritual self-disembowelment of a samurai warrior for some disgrace or failure. “Hara kiri” is the more rude form of the word and although Westerners may not be able to understand the reasoning of such an act, you can’t deny the strength and fortitude of someone committed to such an act, so let’s give it the respect of at least the proper name. Also, in my ongoing struggle with the translators, I don’t know what the characters are actually saying, but I’m pretty sure that terms like “lily-livered” and “upsy-daisy” were not spoken in 17thC. feudal Japan (in fact…I don’t think they are so common phrases today in Western vernacular)!

So, vernacular aside, “Hara Kiri” is a good film about the struggle of individual man against the power of the state. In this sense, “Hara Kiri” is a kind of anti-samurai movie, showing how a totalitarian state disregards the struggles of individuals under its government. When you see the empty samurai uniform on display in the governor’s mansion, it represents everything the state can be at its worst: big, scary, threatening…but totally empty and devoid of any feeling or soul.

The film starts with a “ronin” (masterless samurai) by the name of Hanshiro Tsugumo visiting the household of Lord Seito, who is the leader of the ruling Iyi family. As a ronin, Hanshiro is down on his luck and asks to perform seppuku in the courtyard of the household, due to the shame of his position. Lord Seito is counseled by his retainers that this is a gambit by Hanshiro to either gain a position in the government, or else be given a handout and suggests that he be allowed to continue with his self-execution or else word will spread and other ronin will be drawn as “ants to a mound of sugar.”

To scare Hanshiro off, Lord Seito tells a story of an earlier visit by another ronin, by the name of Motome who tried the very same gambit, and whose bluff was called with the most dire consequences. It turns out that Motome had pawned his swords and had replaced his swords with bamboo ones. As  a samurai’s sword is his “soul” in this culture, Motome reeks disdain from the Iyi family and is ordered to proceed seppuku with a blade that “couldn’t cut tofu!”

Hanshiro is not put off by the story and is committed to proceed, with the only request that he only be able to tell a story. In that story, Hanshiro reveals his own agenda, and his history with the  ronin, Motome.

One caution with this film: Motome’s self-execution, while very essential to the storyline…it is very hard to watch! There’s something about that scene that made me squirm more than any of the  ”Saw” or “Hostel” type films ever could!

October 05, 2010: Ozu’s “Tokyo Story”

Often I see a film that under the right circumstances, I should love, yet I walk away feeling a little let down after seeing it. Usually, all the major pieces necessary (good acting, writing, direction and of course…photography) are present, but somehow I still find them a little lacking. I usually attribute this feeling to a particular mood I have at the time of viewing, but after seeing Yasujiro Ozu’s masterpiece “Tokyo Story” today, I realized that there is more than a passing mood to appreciate a truly good film. The best term I can come up with is “openness.” Being open to a film seems to make all the difference. I knew enough about “Tokyo Story” that one would have to have a special frame on mind to watch it. One thing that helped me was to have watched one of Ozu’s previous films (“The Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice” see my August 25th review of this film) so I knew Ozu’s style: that his best films focus on Japanese post-war, middle class and deal with family issues. I could tell by the film’s length (over two hours) that I need to watch the film with a bit of Patience (deliberately capitalized…any film with two hours of subtitles needs Patience.) I also knew that Ozu can be slow-paced, as he takes his time to draw out personalities of his characters and I knew that this is considered his most “plotted” and more melodramatic of his films. I also read a few reviews of the film and it seems that people either love “Tokyo Story” or hate it.

So. Instead of giving you a lot of details about the film, I want you to trust me and just to see “Tokyo Story” with “openness.” In general, the film is about family and the inherent lessons about life that can be learned, via family. If you are Japanese, you’ve probably lived through issues that come up in this film, and if you are Western I promise you will recognize personality traits of characters of the family Ozu portrays. Also, the film’s most important feature is that it concentrates on the Japanese zen-like concept of “mono no aware” or “the sweet sadness of life” which is that at the moment you experience the most profound joy of your life you are also aware that that moment is temporary. If all of this is not quite enough to give you impels to see “Tokyo Story,” another draw (for me, at least) was that this film was rated in the top ten best film of all time in several lists that I found! Give yourself some time, patience, a little “openness” and give “Tokyo Story” a try.

September 07, 2010: Kurosawa’s “Sanjuro”

I am slowly working my way through all the Kurosawa films that I have missed seeing over the years as well as revisiting some old favorites. Last week I saw “Sanjuro” from 1961. Sanjuro is a story of a conflict between a samurai clan’s chamberlain and superintendent. It seems that when the clan’s leader is out of town, these two are in charge and there has been corruption to the point that nine retainers take it into their own hand to find out who, and deal with the culprit. The nine young men meet clandestinely to discuss their plans. Unknown to them, is a ronin (a masterless samurai who is Sanjuro, played by Toshiro Mifune) who is sleeping in another room and who overhears their plans. The retainers have already picked the superintendent as the innocent one (mostly on the basis of his good looks) and are prepared to go against the chamberlain. Out steps Sanjuro, unkempt, scratching, and moody (as they have woken him up) to tell them that they are all wrong and why. This starts a pattern that runs throughout the film: the young men, making spontaneous decisions and running pell-mell into trouble with Sanjuro pulling them back and saving their lives over and over. Of course, the young retainers initially  stand up to Sanjuro, but as he almost immediately saves their lives, they quickly trust him and he becomes their ad hoc leader. The group cannot rescue the chamberlain from the superintendent’s retainers, but they can save his wife and daughter. These two add a much-needed yin to an (up to this point) yang energy. The mother chastises Sanjuro for being “too sharp, like a sword” after he has killed several men in their rescue and reminds him that “good swords are kept in their scabbards.” They also coax Sanjuro’s name out of him. Up to this point of the film the ronin is the quintessential “man with no name” prevalent in many of Kurosawa’s films as well as many of the Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns. Looking out into a courtyard, he sees a camilla tree and proclaims his name to be “Tsubaki Sajuro” (“Camilla 30-year-old”.)

“Sanjuro” has a good story, fine acting, good fight scenes, but I was most surprised (and pleased) by the understated humor: Sanjuro’s lackadaisical, unkempt manner is fun to watch Mifune perform. His constant attempts to catch a nap, while receiving constant “reports” from the retainers is a riot, but the most amusing was the captured guard from the superintendent’s side who would act as a mini Greek chorus, except he is constantly banished (or is banishing himself) to the closet.

Two small criticisms of “Sanjuro”: One is that, as a non-Japanese speaker, I rely on the subtitles to relay accurate meaning. When a character is subtitled as saying “No, No” when even my unpracticed ear hears “Yes, Yes” it throws the whole trust in the translators away. Also, I thought it odd that Sanjuro could put away a room full of men with absolutely no blood on him, his sword or the men! I had no idea that Kurosawa was saving all the blood for the final showdown with the superintendent’s chief henchman. Then it comes across as cartoonish, a Monty Python-like caricature. Other than these two faults, Sanjuro is a good period piece, well worth a rental.

August 25, 2010: The Flavor of Green Tea Over RIce

I was pleased to have Isaac, Sarah, and Matt over for dinner, last week. In keeping with my “Summer on a Stick” unconscious theme I have going, I made:

• Grilled Fennel and Papaya Skewers in Lime-butter
• Grilled Onion and Chicken Skewers in Lemon-Pepper Sauce
• Greek Pasta Salad
• Chilled Chai sweetened with Coconut Milk

In addition to their wonderful company, these guys really know their movies and in addition to taking some well deserved teasing about Netflixing “Furry Vengeance” I walked away with a list of really good films to add to my list. Seeing Isaac reminded me of a wonderful movie he bequeathed to me a while back, Yasujiro Ozu’s  1952 “Ochazuke No Aji” or “The Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice.”

It seems many critics of this film attack the perils of arranged marriages, and while yes, that’s a part of movie, I think these critics are missing the larger points that Ozu is addressing about the everyday pitfalls of not only marriage, but relationships in general. The married leads Mokichi and Taeko have their issues:. Mokichi tends to be a rather distant to his wife, and for Taeko, nothing Mokichi does is OK. From the brand of cigarette he smokes, the 3rd class train that he travels in, even how he eats his food and the food he enjoys is 3rd rate. Her friends Aya and Takaka are little help. Themselves products of arranged marriages, one of their husband seems to have  a permanent residence in France, and the other is a liar and a cheat. Even the couple’s niece, Setusko who seems to dearly care for her aunt and uncle cannot bring them together.

The bulk of the film describes the relationship for the leads and everyone in their lives, along the way, one sees a lot of Japanese life and customs of, at least, the early 50′s: The spas, the pachinko parlors and the restaurant “Calorie House”, where they hang out. The entertainment of the race track (funny, it’s bikes they are racing. I wonder if this is a 50′s thing?) Home life and even a typical business is explored and worth watching, if only to catch the “Willy Wonka” theme played ad infinitum in the pachinko parlor, and I wonder if a modern Japanese launches into song so readily as they do in the film? I’ll have to ask Yoshio, Teja, Miguel, and Pam if these are true to life.

Mokichi and Taeko reach their biggest hurdle when Taeko goes away for some alone time at the same time Mokichi is given the dictate by his company to pack up and move away to S. America ASAP! As Taeko misses (or ignores) Mokichi’s telegram she returns home to find her husband gone, perhaps forever. Luckily, Mokichi’s plane is delayed, giving the couple one last chance for make or break.

The title of the movie is made clear as the couple struggle to make the dish without waking up their maid. Their final accord is a sweet and intimate encounter and a good example of how making and sharing food can communicate understanding and the importance of the familiar…and reliable!

July 23, 2010: Kirosawa’s “Dersu Uzala”

Hey. How’s this for a foreign film premise: a Japanese director films a Russian cast, whose hero is a member of obscure asian tribe from Manchuria whose nomadic and shamanistic ways are more akin to Native American Indians than most Asian cultures. That’s “Dersu Uzala,” Akira Kurosawa’s film that received the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film of 1976. Dersu Uzala is the name of the tracker of the Asiatic Nanai (called “Goldi” by the Russians in the film, which is a historically correct term used by early 20thC. Russians, but really a name for a smaller clan of the Nanai.)

Dersu guides a group of Russian surveyors across the wilderness and dangers of uncharted eastern Russia. Dersu is just the kind of guide one would need for a trip of this nature. He has a preternatural sense of his surroundings that saves the Russians time and time again: he is able to read the tracks that he finds in the wild and know not only how many men he is following, but their age and ethnicity; he is able to know when the rain will stop by listening to the birds; he is able to build a shelter from a tripod, a couple of rocks and grass that saves lives from a blizzard.

Dersu makes no distinctions between the men he guides or the “men” he see in the wild: martens, crows, badgers, mice…even fire, water, and wind he sees as “men” that not only he, but all people, have an obligation to honor and respect . Dersu has such raw and undiluted code of ethics, that he literally cannot understand a rich trapper’s desire to cheat him out of furs. He is indignant of another groups needless trapping of animal they do not use. Best of all, Dersu is a loyal and trustworthy friend to the captain of the Russians and to his family.

Slow paced, and perhaps a bit long, but beautiful in scope, as only Kurosawa can film, “Dursu Uzala” is an epic film of man vs nature and a wonderful representation of the “wild man” (as Thoreau termed) in modern cinema. It is also a good guide (like Dersu himself) to demonstrate what we, as modern men, have lost in our lack of  respect of nature and one another.

March 12, 2010: Review of movie “Departures”

Once and a great while, I see a film that I would call perfect. I know it’s perfect because it stays in the DVD player, for at least one additional playing. A perfect film leaves me with the feeling “I wish I had produced this movie” and (even more rarely) “…I wouldn’t change a thing!” Such was my mind after seeing the Japanese film “Departures” this week. “Departures” directed by Yojiro Takita, won the Academy Award last year for Best Foreign Film, and also won the Japanese Academy Prize for just about every category imaginable. There is a great message about food in “Departures” but I would like the viewers to find this on their own.

The story is of a young cello player named Daigo, living in Toyko, whose life is radically changed when his orchestra is dissolved. Daigo moves with his wife to his departed mothers place to what a Toyko resident must think of as “the sticks.” As Daigo starts to look for work, he answers an ad for a person dealing with “departures.” Thinking he is going for travel agent job, he is immediately hired by the boss who explains that through a misprint of the word “departed” that the job is for a “nokanshi” (NK for short, meaning “coffiner”) agent and Daigo is horrified.

Here we need to explain a few things about Japanese culture: a “coffiner” in Japanese society is one who prepares the departed for burial by the practical and symbolic washing of the departed, as well as application of makeup and dress, pre-burial. The role, historically, was done by a family member, but in modern times is done by the NK agent. We in the west tend to think of undertaking as an odd but necessary job. In Japanese society, however, this job is thought of as somehow “contaminated.”

Daigo hides the facts of his new job from his wife and friends, but after the more ghastly aspects of the job on his first assignment, are over, he starts to see the importance of sending his “clients” off with dignity and care. His boss is a perfect mentor and guide for Daigo, using patience, kindness, and humor to steer his course.

“Departures” is cinematically well photographed, and is well thought out: a shot of fire dissolving into geese taking off-beautiful, and suggests the Phoenix returning from the ashes. A simple focus pull to suggest memory and love coming back-spectacular. I loved the idea of the “stone letter” and have to check with Yoshio and my friends how accurate this might be in Japanese culture. Americans might be a little frustrated with Daigo’s wife as she too, goes through her arc. She might seem too complacent and emotionally still, but it is just through her stillness that her strength comes through. Her quiet statement “my husband is a professional” comes across as almost a shout of acceptance and pride.

Surprisingly, with such a grim subject, a good deal of humor and affection comes through without ignoring the realities of the range of emotion that happens when we lose a loved one. The arc of Daigo is a wonderful story as he goes from repulsion to rediscovering his art through this improbable occupation. The nods to nature’s cyclical aspects are represented through the “return cycle” of geese and salmon. Pointing out “they want to come home” is a poignant message, particularly when it is spoken by the “Gatekeeper” who will inevitably send us all on our way home…with love and care, if we are lucky or worthy enough.