Love & Pop

[Mark Schilling]

A few comments on Aaron's critique of Bounce and his observations on how
Aoyama and other young Japanese filmmakers are dealing with the problem of
"unrepresentability." 

First, while I have favorably reviewed several Harada films (Kamikaze Taxi,
Bounce, Jubaku), I have slated several others (Gunhed, Painted Desert,
Rowing Through). I thought the last three lame attempts to make
"international" films with an "American" style and attitude -- and ending
up with something as accurate and authentic as a 1950s rock'n'roll cafe in
Shimokitazawa. Not only Harada, but Japanese filmmakers in general find
this cultural leap across the Pacific enormously difficult to make (the
reverse is also true). If anyone out there knows one who has succeeded,
please tell us about him (or her). 

Back home, Harada has had better luck importing Hollywood methods to the
making of films on pressing social issues (the influx of
Japanese-Brazilians into Japan, the enjo kosai phenomenon, the rampant
corruption at the highest levels of business and government). 

But his own outlook is very much that of a Boomer, to whom the flame-headed
hordes of Shibuya's Center Gai are subjects more for examination than
empathy. Thus the "outside looking in" stance of Bounce, thus the off-notes
that foreigners and Harada's fellow middle-agers (including this one) may
have failed to notice -- but evidentally grated on the Center Gai kids and
their age-mates. (I remember seeing the film at Cinema East-West in Shibuya
shortly after it opened and noticing row after row of empty seats). .

Even so, I respect Harada for not taking the easy way out -- for not
making, say, yet another movie on middle-aged adultery -- but instead
trying to bring important issues to the attention of more than the tiny
coterie that watches most Japanese art films.  

At the same time, I have applauded the efforts of Aoyama and other
directors of his generation to truly represent -- not merely editorialize
on -- the moral vacuum that is modern Japan. I also believe, with them,
that mainstream Japanese films explain too much, adventure too little --
treating the audience as if it were a crowd of drowsing couch potatoes
interested only in having its expectations met and its values confirmed,
not a group of intelligent adults willing to be surprised and challenged.

But I have also been bothered by the stylistic mannerisms more than a few
of them have adopted to represent that generation -- shot after
interminable long shot of mildly depressed twentysomethings mouthing
Delphic-sounding dialogue meant to stand for -- what? Making the audience
work is one thing. Boring it to death with lazy imitations of Tarkovsky and
Bresson is another. The minimalism-by-the-numbers approach may get you
invited to foreign film festivals -- a major objective of many today -- but
it's not going to revitalize a struggling industry or bring back audiences
convinced that serious Japanese films are dull, dark and dreary. 

I find it interesting that one young Japanese director to have really
struck a nerve with his generational cohort is the much-derided Shunji Iwai
-- who may be too shojo manga to please the sterner critics, but at least
knows what those kids on Center Gai are really watching (hint -- it's not
"Diary of a Country Priest") and how to put their manga- and MTV-fed
sensibility on the screen. Could his movies be better? Certainly. Could his
minimalist colleagues learn something from his success? Probably -- but I
rather doubt many of them will. 

Mark Schilling