Kore-Eda is a magic realist of sorts: his utterances of the everyday can cast an entrancing spell, but its a precarious one, porcelain, apt to shatter and reform multiple times across a movie. In those moments, it is transportive, but outside of them I felt kept outside the characters.
Crazy beautiful, quiet, serene and all that >>> and the story is there... then the quietness steps to the front so much that it fails to be sort of humble and be the carrier of the pain of the main character. The film is packed with gems though and it did Japan my soul.
[More like 4.5] Although some scenes might be a bit too long – yet bound to picture's message – the movie itself is outstanding: Kore-Eda used cinematography and music to create the perfect atmosphere to tell the story of how people can be lost in their thoughts regarding the human condition, and how such thoughts aren't always to be avoided. It's an excellent mixture of 80s elements and social traits of Japan.
A story about the inability of a single woman, let alone mother, to express her guilt and melancholia for losing the people she had once loved. Extremely adept at immediately creating a tone of quiet sorrow. A magic realist intake with themes like the "will o’ the wisps" and psychological escapism through naturalism and the Japanese countryside. A beautiful piece of art. Hirokazu Kore-eda is Yasujiro Ozu's legacy.
Maborosi No Hıkari (1995) Hirokazu Kore-Eda In the opening scene an elderly woman crossing a bridge, pulls away from the future, on her way towards eternity. The visuals and words flow together and play off each other, like notes in a melody. I kept thinking while I was watching, I want to see this again someday.
Need we resort to an aswer as to why Japanese cinema is a choice to be made, that's it : Take any idea you what. In this case, loss. The sense of it won't be printed on your ears after minutes of screaming or whining. No. All you get is a view to a sea, an empty, neat room and silence. It's all atmosphere. It's about the absence of exaggeration. It's the thing itself.