I’m with you, Kenji-san. But a quibble – I think Yumiko is from Osaka, not Tokyo, before she moves to Noto. I think it should be shared with as many people as possible. Here are some of my thoughts, which I wrote for a local Japanese/Canadian newsletter.
Kore-eda started out making TV documentaries, and won several awards for films such as “However …”, which dealt with the suicide of a senior government official who was responsible for the welfare of victims of Minimata disease (mercury poisoning). While he was working on this project he was struck by the grief of the man’s widow, and that was one of the experiences that led him to make his first feature film, Maborosi, (Japanese title is “Maboroshi no Hikari” (幻の光, literally “phantasmic light”). It stars Makiko Esumi, Tadanobu Asano and Takashi Naitō and is based on a novel by Teru Miyamoto. Maborosi is a film about grief, and about healing from that grief. The story is told in a simple, understated manner that has been compared to Ozu and the Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-Hsien (Kore-eda has also made a documentary about him and Edward Yang). It is set in Osaka and the Noto peninsula. The main character in the movie is Yumiko, played by Makiko Esumi, and we follow her through happiness and heartbreak and back to happiness, and to peace. We also see how her family and friends and neighbours, through simple kindness and friendship, help her in this journey. There are some delightful characters and moments in the movie, for instance, Tomeno, the old woman who makes a living from fishing, who is ‘immortal’, and the two children in the movie.
There is no dramatic action, no special effects, Kore-eda seems to use natural light mostly, he stays away from close ups and fast cutting from shot to shot (quite common in modern movies). The movie is slow, and you can savour it. It ends in real tranquility. It has been described as ‘contemplative’ or ‘serene’. It is one of the most beautiful movies I know.
I have the Region 1 DVD; I’ve never seen it in a theatre, and I suspect the transfer was not particularly good. But it has one of my all time favourite endings. It is a miracle of film-making.
In a way, together with After Life and Nobody Knows, Kore-eda peaked early. He is moving more towards the mainstream now. Hana is a delightful Samurai film, however, with a very funny take on the 47 Ronin as a sub-plot. Still Walking is also very powerful. You (from Nobody Knows) is in it, and is really good.
Welcome back, boyo.
Rhys it is indeed a miracle of filmmaking. I have the DVD also, and I just can’t adequately express how much I love the film, so, I don’t think I will try.
I will say this, I had never before been more struck by so many scenes continuously, and it’s still hard to cobble together more than a handful of films that have struck as much or more than this one. Every scenes is just gorgeous on a purely superfluous level, but every scene is astounding in it’s depth. It’s all still there burned into my mind, the bike ride home to that gorgeous shamisen song, the love scene, the children playing all across the fishing village. My favourite scene (if I can even quantify one scene above the other) is the scene in which the husband is walking away, after coming home to get an umbrella. Yumiko’s expression goes from youthful, and exuberant the first time you watch to just astoundingly tragic upon repeat viewings, because of what you know about this meeting. Still a film that touches me like no other, it leaves a prfound fissure in me during almost the entirety of the film, and fills it in wholly, and then some, by the end of it.
Thanks a lot, both- well, seems i was misinformed over Tokyo- and then passed on the misinfo in turn. Hard to be sure of knowledge even from reputable sources. It’s the sort of film i’m anxious about watching once too often, it’s very precious. No doubt it can take it, but being lovestruck feels precarious. Same with Alice in the Cities. The final section of Maborosi has something of both Antonioni and Angelopoulos about it too. Whereas so many directors making debut features try to overload with various tricks, swirls, cuts and needless effects, to make an impact, show off their “cinematic” qualities and a name for themselves, the maturity here is remarkable, but then Koreeda was already an established documentarist. Such fully formed and wise debuts are rare- Pather Panchali is another, and Maborosi surely is in the same sky-high league. Though he’s done consistently good stuff since, i don’t think he’s come very close to that peak again, but i’m looking forward to Still Walking.
I thought After Life was a very good film, it was actually my first exposure to him. And I think Nobody Knows is a very touching film. The only film I haven’t cared for is Hana, but even that was at least enjoyable if it was lacking any real depth. I can’t say about Distance, but I’ve heard very good things, and I’ve heard extremely good things about Still Walking. I think he’s the best Japanese director working today. And I would put him near the top of my list of all active directors.
Koreeda is undoubtedly the best active director, along with Hou. O, if only his films were more famous!
I would be hesitant to say any director is undoubtedly the best working today. I could have said that after 2046 by Wong Kar Wai, but if I had I would have been very embarassed because his next film was the dreadful My Blurberry Nights.
Bela Tarr, Hou Hsiao-hsien, Kore-eda, Tsai Ming-liang are all among the best directors working today, but I wouldn’t say any of them are without a doubt the best. Their next film could surprise you.
Kore-eda’s choice to stay away from close-ups irked me, but 15 minutes into it, I was totally involved and realised he was indeed trying to make the viewer rather earn intimacy and not frivolously take what is presented (quoting Kenji).The director while shooting with every kind of light possible maybe pointing to the viewer that there is light in everyday life, sometimes in abundance but never know when or which kind of light enlightens or shows the spiritual way. The intentions behind Ikuo’s suicide may have had spiritual implications too.
I don’t know if I was able to put my superficial thoughts into deep words but after finishing, I found myself awestruck and that does not happen very often.
Ah i’m really pleased, it deserves to be much better known. Close ups: Mizoguchi once said he hated them and in the late 30s- especially, apparently, in Straits of Love and Hate, which i’ve not seen- this is pretty obvious. But he came back round to the need for them, and it takes a very special film to get away with such a shortage i i think; and a close up when it does happen here is all the more effective.
This is Kore-eda’s first feature film and it is, I think, his best film. It is a candidate for my desert-island film and whenever there is talk of ‘best films’ Maborosi is never far from my thoughts. I once saw it in a double bill with Tokyo Story and I left the cinema more affected my Maborosi. I have the US DVD of Maborosi, but it isn’t a very good edition, with rather soft image, and I wonder whether I should splash out and get the Japanese one if it’s still available, I think it has English subs.
@Le Feu Follet: The Japanese DVD is the way to go. English subs and excellent picture quality.
What hooked me big time in this was the scene of the husband heading off … it had all the movements of a scene from Chaplin.
Call me crazy but it was just such a brilliant set up. Then the resolution rang so true.
The film has such a great control o tone without ever getting sentimental.
Le Feu Follet: more affected by Maborosi than Tokyo Story; praise indeed. I was shocked by how good it was cos until i first rented it i had hardly even heard of it. Delighted to have my opinion confirmed by people of such good taste and knowledge here.
Koreeda Hirokazu is a lasting and seminal filmmaker. Probably the most cinematically unique and delicate director from Japan. Sure he recalls Ozu, but there is something utterly Hirokazu about him. I’m dying to see Air Doll and Still Walking. Let’s just say if i had to pick a final filmed memory to live with in my “After Life,” it would be Maboroshi no Hikari.
I’m sorry but I didn’t like it very much :(
I just found it so boring visually and visuals are so important in such a slow moving, meditative film – look at Eureka where every single shot is interesting and plays a role in what you’re thinking and feeling about the characters for example. In this the camera hardly ever moves, the views of landscapes stop becoming interesting and start becoming disruptive after a while and there are too many shots of characters that go on for a bit too long as nothing really happens. I know all this may sound like a silly complaint, and it probably is a silly complaint, but it really affected my enjoyment of the film.
After reading this thread I’m certain that I should rewatch it at some point, but I doubt I’ll think much more of it than I do now – I hope I do though because it sounds like I’m really missing out on something special.
I don’t think you’re looking, William. I don’t want to criticize, but every shot in the film is absolutely necessary, and nothing goes on for too long. Take, for example, the shots of the children playing around town. On the surface it may only seem like some pretty landscape shots, but there is a subtlety in those shots. The film is about acceptance, and overcoming grief and in that scene you see the children walking through tunnels, and you see them in a reflection of them self. There are strong visual cues in that scene even though it may only seem like a meaningless scene on the surface.
Every scene has a strong emotional cue, or strong visual cues. The audience must look for them (just like in Hou, and Ozu (Kore-eda’s a big fan of both)), but there is a depth, and beauty in every shot beyond just the superficial beauty of the camera work.
“I don’t think you’re looking, William. I don’t want to criticize, but every shot in the film is absolutely necessary, and nothing goes on for too long. Take, for example, the shots of the children playing around town. On the surface it may only seem like some pretty landscape shots, but there is a subtlety in those shots. The film is about acceptance, and overcoming grief and in that scene you see the children walking through tunnels, and you see them in a reflection of them self. There are strong visual cues in that scene even though it may only seem like a meaningless scene on the surface.
Every scene has a strong emotional cue, or strong visual cues. The audience must look for them (just like in Hou, and Ozu (Kore-eda’s a big fan of both)), but there is a depth, and beauty in every shot beyond just the superficial beauty of the camera work."
I was looking…just maybe not in the right way? I’m struggling to put what I want to say in to words here, but it is a bit like at the moment I want a scene to be enjoyable without having to analyse its purpose but still leaving the possibility of looking deeper there, if you can get what I’m trying to say – when I’m watching a film I prefer to feel it and experience it rather than analyse it? I’m not sure that I’m expressing myself correctly >_>
As I said, I’m definitely going to give it a rewatch at some point and hopefully I’ll enjoy it more. I’m certainly looking forward to rewatching it after reading all these positive comments and I can make sure I’m in the right mood seeing as I now know what I’m watching.
I would hope so, too. We can discuss it after you see it again if you want. I’d be more than happy to talk about this film any day of the week.
“I would hope so, too. We can discuss it after you see it again if you want. I’d be more than happy to talk about this film any day of the week.”
I’ll post in this topic again once I’ve rewatched it. Hopefully I’ll rewatch at some point within the next two weeks or so because I’m really quite keen to see it again now :D
I think someone here said that this film is about grief and healing from that grief, but I’d argue that it is more about the inability to communicate and express one’s emotions freely. This is a problem endemic in Japanese society and culture in which ones from the onset of childhood are socialized to curb expressing their emotions. Why did the first husband commit suicide? We have no clue. And how does the wife react to that suicide? By bottling up her emotions as well…She cannot express her grief openly. In a way, her reaction to her husband’s mysterious suicide is the greater tragedy. It is an issue that Koreeda has touched on more than once as people have mentioned, and with particular deft in Distance as well. Distance, perhaps due to its mock documentary style, fails to be as lyrical and moving as Maborosi, but is nevertheless a fine movie as well.
Her inability to communicate is an expression of that grief, though. When you lose a loved one it’s impossible to tell how you, or anyone else will react, but it all falls under grief. The way you grieve may not be healthy, but it’s still grief.
Yes, you’re right, of course the inability to communicate is a manifestation (I choose this word over “expression” because I think there is a slight difference in their respective nuance) of that grief. And ironically enough, you could argue that it is this very inability to communicate freely that was at the heart of the husband’s decision to commit suicide in the first place. What I was trying to say is that it’s the particular way of communicating and expressing oneself (or lack thereof) that is at the heart of the film.
“What I was trying to say is that it’s the particular way of communicating and expressing oneself (or lack thereof) that is at the heart of the film.”
Absolutely. We agree then.
Yes, saying that that “the film is about grief and healing from that grief” is not at all inaccurate—by the way, I think it was Dave Rhesus who wrote that in an earlier post—I just thought that it was a bit too generic.
I think it also had a lot to do with spirits. It’s true that this film is a bit more unconventional in its shot composition and overall style of cinematography but I personally feel that the cinematography is what holds the narrative together. When the audience feels worn out by Yumiko’s loss, we have the beautiful scenery to purge our emotions upon (in much softer way, it’s almost Brechtian. We are asked to self-reflect in some of these scenes). The Sea of Japan is symbolic in Maboroshi no hikari. It seems that the director uses the sea as a metaphor for Yumiko’s cathartic experiences. There is even a scene in which her 2nd husband mentions, “The sea is beguiling.” The notion that the sea possesses a phantasmal light is very Japanese and spiritual. The sea in this case is a spirit (kami) that helps Yumiko confront her losses. This first being her grandma, and the second: her husband.
I also agree with what you two said.
Kenji
The title of another thread here, Secret Masterpiece, got me to thinking of my favourite film of the past 20 years. I know at least one other person here loves it, but it’s not even the director’s best known film
.
MABOROSI
The debut feature of Kore-eda (one-time documentarist and director of the widely admired “Afterlife” and “Nobody Knows”) is one of a small, precious number of films for which i’ve felt lovesick. Maborosi’s story is superficially simple: affected by the death of her grandmother and her husband’s inexplicable suicide, a young Tokyo woman starts new married life, along with her son, in a remote seaside fishing village, but finds the past continues to trouble her. Eschewing close-ups,the narrative draws the viewer in gradually, so that, as Tony Rayns says, intimacy is earned, not frivolously given. It is haunted throughout by a dark, almost overwhelming sense of mystery. The film’s masterfully controlled mise-en-scene, contemplative pacing, ‘off-screen space’ and quiet investment of objects (a bike, a teapot, a wisp of steam…) with both beauty and meaning, recall Ozu and Hou Hsiao-Hsien. Its lighting is refined, at times, to the point of abstraction, while Nakabori’s photography is utterly, immeasurably exquisite. It is another treasure from the land of Mizoguchi, the isles of cinematic wonders. But Maborosi is not best served by hyperbole. It is an unassertive film, too shy, too pure and concentrated to seek the limelight. While compelled to tell of its elusive magic, I protectively fear its over-exposure. In publicising, am I breaking faith? It connects in secret. With the heart that is ready.