Tokyo Sonata

As massive fan of Japanese cinema in all its varied forms, I always find it disappointing that so few Japanese films get theatrical releases over here. When the rare few do break through, you can only hope that they are worth the long wait. Tokyo Sonata, thankfully, is a very worthy import.

The film follows four members of the Sasaki family. Father/husband Ryuhei has just been laid off, and rather than inform the family and risk losing his authority, he continues to leave for work everyday, spending his time loitering around a free food counter with another pretend salary-man. His wife Megumi is feeling lonely and unloved as housewife and mother. Oldest son Takashi is considering joining the US army, while his younger sibling Kenji is pocketing his monthly lunch allowance to pay for piano lessons, against his parents' wishes. Director Kiyoshi Kurosawa chronicles each of the characters as they plummet ever downwards.

Initial impressions of Tokyo Sonata are reminiscent of the great Yasujiro Ozu. The focus on issues such as the formality of the Japanese family unit, children struggling to challenge their parents' authority and a general sense of making cinematic poetry out of the mundane bear similarities to Tokyo Story et al. Indeed, the first few low angled shots suggest we are in for a contemporary homage to the master. But while the theme and style may be similar, Kurosawa does enough to create a unique narrative and movie.

The film uses Tokyo as a backdrop to tell a universal story. As much as I despise all this 'recession' talk, Ryuhei's story is probably more relevant now than it has been in recent years. He is a very interesting character, his position as family protector being challenged by his children’s personal rebellions and his own perceived inadequacies. His reactions family events quickly become dictorial and at times violent. He is not always an entirely likable character, but very believable. While we feel sorry for his situation, and the tough and unfair conditions his stubbornness puts his family in, he acts as a symbol of the oppressive parentry, trying to protect his children but not always treating them as individuals. While the character of a bored housewife is not a particularly original one, Megumi is also a wonderful creation. She is stuck between loyalty to her husband, children and her own personal needs. In one particularly poignant moment, she lies on the couch with her hands in the air, asking futilely for help to get up. A simple moment, but a powerful one. The children have a smaller role, but important ones. Kenji gets the most screen time of the two, and his struggles to follow his own musical interests despite the objections of his father creates fascinating drama. The cast prove talented, with Teruyuki Kagawa and Kyoko Koizumi in particular turning in fine performances as Ryuhei and Megumi.


The film threatens to self-destruct at the start of the third act, as Megumi becomes embroiled in a slightly surreal subplot that kind of jars with the strict realism of what has gone before. Despite these scenes not really fitting in with the general tone, moments of great beauty are achieved once Megumi reaches the coastline, thankfully putting the film back on course. Indeed, it recovers enough to produce a truly stunning conclusion. The final scene features no dialogue, and is all the more effective because of it. Using music and simple imagery as narrative tools, it allows the three main characters to get a touching send-off.

The film is directed in a carefully-paced and subtle way by Kurosawa (who has supposedly mostly worked on horror in the past). Hopefully he will continue to produce dramas, as this film shows great talent indeed. He has created a very effective movie, which conjures a powerful and poetic vision out of simple and familiar situations. Luckily we don't have too long to wait until the next major Japanese import - Mayasaki's extremely promising Ponyo on the Cliff is due in April (can't wait personally!), while the anthology Tokyo! is mere days away. But Tokyo Sonata acts as a superb example of contemporary Japanese cinema, and thankfully it has received the theatrical release it well deserves.