Matt Cooper Films

A Muse Never Drowns (2022) by Nozomi Asao

Sakuko Kizaki (Miku Uehara) is a member of her high-school art club along with her friend Emi Otani (Kokoro Morita) and talented fellow student Hikaru Saibara (Kogarashi Wakasugi). While the group are out sketching at the docks, Sakuko is knocked into the water. Hikaru paints the flailing Sakuko and the picture is hung up in the school stairwell and praised for its quality. When Hikaru asks Sakuko to model for a new portrait, she is at first unwilling, not understanding the reason for her classmate’s interest in her. Meanwhile, Sakuko is being forced to pack up her things at home as her family, her father (Yota Kawase) and his new heavily pregnant wife Satomi (So Hirosawa), are moving out. Believing she has little talent for art she bags up her sketches and drawings, but soon finds a new creative outlet, collecting bits and pieces from the things they are throwing out and constructing a boat from the discarded scraps.

“A Muse Never Drowns” is a beautifully composed film, with each element helping drive forward the themes of growth and creativity. From the first moment we see Sakuko sketching the boat, to the final moments when we see the wildly creative construction she has made from junk, we see her develop in a way that is relatable and believable. Writer-director Nozomi Asao focuses on the relationship between Sakuko and Hikaru, creating an incredible depth of emotion between them. The power of their scenes is in the subtle everyday concerns that are driving them, anxieties about their own talents, and fears for the future, as well as uncomfortably new feelings of affection. The performances of Miku Uehara, Kokoro Morita and Kogarashi Wakasugi are note perfect, reflecting their immaturity alongside a growing sense of self-confidence and yearning for independence without veering into melodrama. Sakuko’s home situation is likewise understated; she has a good relationship with both parents, but with an underlying tension due to the loss of her birth mother. Asao’s use of visual and narrative metaphor works well without being too obvious. Some great examples of this are the fantastical boat that Sakuko constructs from the broken pieces of her home; and the sequence in which we see this home being demolished. Characters occassionaly philosophise on life and relationships, but the script manages to work in these more poetic moments with the characters and situations.

A coming-of-age film that expertly weaves plot and theme together in its tale of young women confronting the future and themselves. Sakuko is typical of many young teenagers, having been passionate about something, but later realising that there are more talented individuals out there. Hikaru, who seems to Sakuko to be achieving everything she wants, is also anxious about the things she is unable to attain. Together they are able to see life more clearly, finding solace in each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and reassess what it is they want from life. They come to realise the importance of creativity and constant reinvention. We learn early in the film that they are the only two who have yet to submit their applications to higher education, emphasising this sense that both are lost and unable to see the path forward. They have spent so long trapped in their own hopes and anxieties that they are unable to see that they need to change in order to progress. The film ends with this positive message that people are able to change, to adapt, and to reinvent themselves constantly in order to face a world that can be full of unexpected disappointments. A wonderful coming-of-age story that is sure to resonate with audiences young and old.

Matt Cooper Films

Busu (1987) by Jun Ichikawa

Mugiko (Yasuko Tomita) moves from Izu to Tokyo, starting at a city school and joining her aunt’s geisha house in Asakusa. Given the name Suzume, she begins work helping the other geisha and learning the dances and entertaining duties of the house. Meanwhile at school she struggles to fit in, finally finding a role for herself when she is asked to dance at the school festival.

“Busu”, written by Makiko Uchidate and directed by Jun Ichikawa, is a coming-of-age story dealing with ideas of tradition meeting contemporary society. The sequence of Suzume running along behind the rickshaws through inner-city Tokyo shows this peculiar blend of long-standing ritual in a modern setting. The depiction of high-school life is enjoyable, as well as Suzume’s sense of isolation after her move. Ichikawa’s direction is endlessly creative, allowing the character-driven story to flow without cleaving to any particular plot. Suzume’s experiences at high-school and at the geisha house are realistic without resorting to melodrama. There is a potential love interest in the athletic classmate, but whatever connection there is between them is left largely unexplored. The score is varied, with pop song interludes accompanying montages of Suzume exploring the city. It is a film that emphasises Suzume’s point of view, her wide-eyed innocence, her sense of isolation, her hopes and fears. Occasionally seemingly incidental details, such as armed police storming into a building, or a woman accosting what we presume is an unfaithful lover, all help to establish a lived in world, one in which Suzume is keenly aware of the dangers.

When she comes to perform her dance at the school show, the audience are completely behind her. This symbol of the traditional values she has been taught seems to be a life-affirming moment for her, connecting her with her family and the past. In a sense Suzume’s story is timeless, the difficulties she faces in fitting in and finding her own way through the various familial and cultural pressures one that has been told many times throughout the generations. Her performance perhaps suggesting that this cycle, of searching for independence before finally settling on a balance between freedom and restraint, is one that is destined to be endlessly repeated. The final moments of the film see Suzume reunited with her mother having experienced life for herself she appears comfortable and confident in relating to her as a woman.

Matt Cooper Films

Leaving on the 15th Spring (2013) by Yasuhiro Yoshida

The Daito islands are a small archipelago hundreds of miles south-east of Okinawa. As the islands have no high-school, almost all 15 year olds leave the island to attend school on the main island. After her senior leaves, Yuna (Ayaka Miyoshi) becomes the eldest middle-schooler, due to depart the following spring. Her father, Toshiharu (Kaoru Kobayashi), lives on the island with her, along with her elder sister Mina (Saori Koide) and her sister’s child Mei. Her mother Akemi (Shinobu Atake) meanwhile lives on the main island, with speculation that she is estranged from her husband. Yuna is part of a folk-group, playing the traditional Shinsan instrument and singing, which gives her a unique insight into the cultural heritage of her island.

Writer-director Yasuhiro Yoshida was shown a 20-minutes documentary on the inhabitants of the Daito islands by his producer and tasked with making a film depicting their story. The film certainly succeeds in showing the beauty of the islands and the tranquility of the rustic lifestyle. We learn about the sugar-cane that grow, hear traditional songs, see the stunning vistas, glimpse the fishing and agricultural industries that predominate, and enjoy the seasonal festivals in a film that depicts a full year of island life. Throughout the film also keeps a firm focus on the emotional journey of Yuna and her family. While described as a romance, Yuna’s relationship with Kento, a boy from the north island, is only a small part of her journey, with the best part of the film concerning her relationship with her family. The central performance from Ayaka Miyoshi, who also learnt to play the Shinsan and sing in the traditional style, is a wonderful portrayal of a young woman learning to appreciate what is important in life. The supporting cast, in particular Kaoru Kobayashi as her father, also bring a great emotional depth to the story, showing both the enjoyable and difficult aspects of island life. The film’s mix of the traditional and modern sensibilities is highlighted in the score, which features a romantic backdrop of piano and strings, alongside poppy love songs and the folk-music that bookends the drama.

“Leaving on the 15th Spring” is a film that focusses on a particular community with a somewhat peculiar problem, that of young people needing to leave the island in their 15th year. However, it provides the perfect backdrop for a coming-of-age drama with relatable themes. Chief amongst these is the desire for independence clashing with a sense of familial responsibility. Yuna is excited to leave the small island, but fears cutting the ties with her father and sister. The distance between Minami Daito and the main island is emphasised in the relationship between Toshiharu and Akemi, whose relationship is of equal importance in the story. It brings to life the fragility of human connection, something we also see in Mina’s relationship with Mei’s father, which is also troubled. The distance between people, both geographically and emotionally, is at the heart of the film. It also questions the nature and importance of responsibility to our ancestors or our culture. The islanders are protective of their traditions, shown in a brief political scene in which the community council debate their opposition to the TPP agreement. Yuna also feels the weight of obligation to her father and family, wondering how to balance this with her own wishes to leave. The farewell festival that Yuna performs at is a poignant mix of melancholy at what we leave behind when we become adults, and the hope that we carry forward with us.