The Village (2023) by Michihito Fujii

Yu (Ryusei Yokohama) works at the local recycling plant that has been constructed above the rural village of Kamon. At night he is coerced into working for gangsters who are illegally dumping hazardous waste at the site. Unhappy, yet forced to continue with the job to pay off his mother’s gambling debts, Yu is given a chance at turning things around when his old friend Misaki (Haru Kuroki) returns to the village. Misaki starts work at the plant and soon recruits Yu to provide tours for school children and take part in a documentary. Not everyone is happy as Yu’s father, who was opposed to the site, carried out an arson attack 10 years earlier.

“The Village”, written and directed by Michihito Fujii, is a sleek thriller centred around the activities of the waste processing plant in this rural community. The plant, which looms over the quaint village as a grey monolithic monstrosity pumping out toxic fumes, comes to symbolise the loss of innocence of the characters and the village itself. This community, now a dumping ground for all kinds of waste, some of which is buried illicitly causing water contamination, represents the duality of the human experience, capable of both hope and beauty and at the same time greed and corruption. Yu is a sympathetic protagonist, a tragic hero who is attempting to keep his head down and do the right thing, forced by circumstance into a Sisyphean struggle to support his mother, constantly berated for his father’s actions, and working for the bully Toru (Wataru Ichinose), the son of the mayor (Arata Furuta), who is also involved in the illegal dumping activity. Misaki, in contrast, returns to the village as a naive, uncontaminated soul, at first unaware of Yu’s misery. Unfortunately, the two of them are unable to escape the darkness that pervades this community, being dragged into it themselves. The film references Noh theatre, with a quote from a Noh play prefacing the drama that speaks of life as a dream; one that people are unable to wake from. The cinematography captures the elegance and simplicity of theatre, and the story itself is a timeless tale of good versus evil updated with modern concerns about environmentalism, corruption, gambling and gangsterism.

This modern tragedy is underscored by the incredible visuals, the contrast between the quiet traditional village setting, surrounded by verdant countryside, and the desolate ground of garbage with its insatiable concrete god belching fumes beside it. After Yu’s father’s failed attempt to stop construction of the plant, Yu appears to have simply given in, resigning himself to the daily drudge and hypocrisy of his work for the mayor and the local gang leader. In one scene we see Yu crouch down and listen to the sound coming from a mysterious hole in the waste site. This dark pit symbolises the darkness in himself, calling to him in his despair. It is this struggle against his own will, an attempt to supress the desire for revenge or to stand up for what’s right that makes him a tragic hero. It is one of several elements that are left to interpretation, such as the silent grandmother who bears witness to the village’s decent, and the enigmatic final shot. A stunning film with incredible cinematography and score by Taro Iwashiro; and a story that manages to weave together modern anxieties with traditional fears.

Intolerance (2021) by Keisuke Yoshida

A father comes to terms with his daughter’s accidental death in this powerful examination of grief. When Kanon (Aoi Ito) is caught shoplifting at a local supermarket, she is chased down the street by the owner-manager Naoto (Tori Matsuzaka). After dashing out into the road Kanon is hit by a car and then a truck, killing her instantly. Kanon’s father Mitsuru (Arata Furuta) blames Naoto for his daughter’s death, believing rumours that he has a predilection for young girls and may have interfered with Kanon. Separated from his wife, Shoko (Tomoko Tabata), Kanon’s mother, Mitsuru has little support aside from his young co-worker. Naoto is supported through the difficult aftermath and public scruitiny by one of his colleagues Asako (Shinobu Terajima), who refuses to believe he is responsible.

“Intolerance”, written and directed by Keisuke Yoshida, is a rumination on the grieving process. The scene of Kanon’s death is depicted brutally and shockingly, although not overly graphic the audience experiences the sudden violence of the acccident. We are shown little before the accident, other than her uncomfortable relationship with her overbearing father. Mitsuru is a stern disciplinarian who has little interest in his daughter’s life before her sudden death. What unfolds after the action is a heart-wrenching portrayal of parental loss. Arata Furuta gives an astounding performance as Mitsuru, driven by anger against those he believes are responsible mixed with his own sense of regret that he showed little affection for his daughter when she was alive. A complex character, far from a perfect father-figure, he seems to want to make amends for past failures by lashing out at the world and placing the blame on others. Tori Matsuzaka’s Naoto is also overcome by a deep sense of shame, realising that he is in part responsible for the death and perhaps regretting his actions. “Intolerance” is shot in a down-to-earth, everyday style, with the supermarket and streets of the fishing town where it is set depicted without embellishment. It is a perfectly ordinary place, with ordinary people experiencing a tragic and extraordinary event in the death of this schoolgirl, showing the impact of this loss on those connected with Kanon.

As well as the utter despair and impotence that Mitsuru feels the film also touches on how such incidents are often manipulated by the media and how people who are not involved can effect public perception. Shortly after the accident the media descend on Naoto’s supermarket and Mitsuru’s home asking for interviews. And we see in short newsroom sequences, and social media, the public rapidly develop their own assessments of those involved and what happened free of facts or first-hand knowledge of these people or the emotional turmoil they are going through. The death of Kanon finally provokes Mitsuru to take an interest in his daughter’s life, interrogating her teachers about bullying concerns, accusing Naoto of lying about her shoplifting, and even reacting harshly to his ex-wife’s attempts to calm him. Mitsuru’s growing acceptance of what has happened and final feeling of connection with her is bitter-sweet as it comes with the realisation that he will never have a chance to express his affection for her. A touching film about loss and how its impact can change people.