Matt Cooper Films

Father of the Milky Way Railroad (2023) by Izuru Narushima

The life story of Kenji Miyazawa, whose work “Night on the Milky Way Railroad” has become a classic of children’s literature, is one full of tragedy, as recounted in this heartbreaking biopic. Born in 1890 to Masajiro (Koji Yakusho) and Ichi (Maki Sakai), young Kenji is afflicted with a disease at an early age. Out of love for his son, his father stays with him in the hospital until he recovers. After recieving an education, Kenji (Masaki Suda) has his head full of foreign literature, refusing to take on his father’s pawn shop business. After becoming involved in the Nichiren Buddhist sect, Kenji begins writing, honouring a promise to his sister Toshi (Nana Mori), who contracts tuberculosis. Toshi loved Kenji’s tales as a child, and took his words that he would be the Japanese Hans Christian Anderson to heart. Kenji begins writing for Toshi, who sadly passes away, and later for his father who promises to be his biggest fan.

Unusually for a biopic, “Father of the Milky Way Railroad” resigns Kenji Miyazawa largely to a supporting role. Although we follow him through the important moments in his life: his early illness, his dalliance with Nichiren Buddhism, his educating of local farmers in agricultural science, his numerous disagreements with his father; it is in fact Masajiro who is at the heart of the drama. Despite his pride in his son, Kenji’s often naive, petulant, behaviour leads to them squabbling and reconciling a number of times. It is a charming depiction of this father-son relationship, with spellbinding performances from Koji Yakusho and Masaki Suda. The love they have for one another; their frustration at each other’s outlook due to the generational divide; Masajiro’s pride in his son’s achievements; and Kenji’s constant desire for his father’s praise, are sure to resonate with parents and children alike. Based on a novel by Yoshinobu Kado, with a screenplay by Riko Sakaguchi, director Izuru Narushima crafts a film that has a picturebook quality at times, with stunning landscapes depicted and the stylish reconstruction of early 20th Century Japan appearing as something straight out of a historical novel. Moments of high drama are captured with hand-held camerawork that highlights the incredible performances, not only from Yakusho and Suda, but from Nana Mori as Toshi, and Min Tanaka as Kenji’s grandfather. The scene of Kenji’s grandfather’s senility is particularly moving. The film is packed with tragic moments yet manages to remain optimistic in its outlook, perhaps due to the postive worldview of Kenji himself, whose humble selflessness shines through.

A lovingly crafted biopic of this renowned author, “Father of the Milky Way Railroad” will appeal to fans of the writer, who will enjoy this depiction of Kenji Miyazawa’s life and the relationships he had with his family, particularly his father and sister. For those unfamiliar with Miyazawa’s work there is still plenty to enjoy here, from the incredible period sets and costumes to the beautiful score. The final scene is a fitting tribute to Miyazawa’s life and work that encapsulates the eternal optimism of the author.

Matt Cooper Films

Doppelganger (2003) by Kiyoshi Kurosawa

Engineer Hayasaki (Koji Yakusho) is working on a robotic chair that allows paralysed people to operate artificial limbs through a connection with the brain. One day he comes home to find a doppelganger who attempts to help him push the project on, while also causing havoc through his aggressive behaviour. Meanwhile, a young woman Yuka (Hiromi Nagasaku) is disturbed to hear of her brother’s suicide, while his doppelganger sits at home working on a novel. Hayasaki’s double hires an assistant called Kimishima (Yusuke Santamaria) to help with the chair; continuing their work in an abandoned warehouse even after Hayasaki is fired from the medical company that had funded his research.

“Doppelganger” is a mix of horror, classic science-fiction, and mystery, with a tone that shifts from dark to humorous. The uncomfortable atmosphere is compounded by a plot that becomes increasingly wild as it reaches a dramatic climax, even abandoning the doppelgangers towards the end. Writer-director Kiyoshi Kurosawa expects the audience to engage with the film, rarely explaining things, or even explicitly revealing what is happening. Instead we experience Hayasaki’s bizarre situation first hand and are asked to make our own minds up about what is real or unreal, and the significance of the doppelgangers. This is even more keenly felt in the story of Yuka’s brother, Takeshi, a disturbing situation that appears and is resolved without any apparent connection to Hayasaki’s own problem. Kiyoshi excels at creating uncomfortable moments, using space and framing that suggests unseen or unknown horrors. Even the smallest moments take on a sinister aspect and we are left anxiously awaiting some new terrible revelation. However, the film also balances this darkness with a blackly comic tone, with Hayasaki’s unhinged behaviour not quite tipping over into something more pitiful. Koji Yakusho does a fantastic job with the two Hayasakis, who have distinct personalities and approaches to work and life. The film utilises simple yet effective techniques to show the two of them together and we can feel that they are two different people who happen to look identical. The use of split screen is also a great addition, adding to the uncertainty about whether this is Hayasaki’s delusion or a manifestation of Hayasaki’s darker nature. The score by Yusuke Hayashi captures this strange blend of horror, comedy and science-fiction, with ominous chords and jaunty melodies.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s “Doppelganger” explores the duality of its protagonist Hayasaki and that of humanity in general. Hayasaki is a man who has devoted his life to his work, neglecting any kind of social or romantic pursuits. His doppelganger, more assertive, aggressive, and decisive, represents those elements of himself he has kept hidden, agressively pursuing Yuka. Hayasaki’s dislike of his double shows how much he wants to distance himself from these elements of his own psyche. Takeshi’s case is more tragic, suggesting the choice that lies before many people, with his ‘real’ self committing sucide while his doppelganger pursues his creative tendencies.It is the Id-like doppelgangers that seem to know what is truly important to the individuals, while the true self of the Ego is forced into a life controlled by others. The film’s upbeat ending sees things resolved in a positive if unconventional way, but one that chimes with the underlying message of self-awareness and self-discovery.

Matt Cooper Films

Bounce Ko Gal (1997) by Masato Harada

A group of teenage girls spend a wild, dangerous night on the streets of Tokyo, earning money through the seedy world of ‘compensated dating’. Maru (Shin Yazawa), who has recently had an abortion for an unwanted pregnancy, goes to meet a male client. The man (Koji Yakusho) turns out to be a Yakuza and takes her ID and phone, telling her he’ll give them back when she pays him. Her friend, Jonko (Hitomi Sato), heads to the Yakuza to negotiate getting Maru’s phone and ID back. Meanwhile, Risa (Yukiko Okamoto), is hoping to make enough money to set herself up in New York, with her flight leaving in less than 48 hours. After selling her underwear and being directed to a softcore porn shoot, she meets up with Raku (Yasue Sato) and the two form a friendship. Risa has also captured the attentions of Sap (Jun Murakami) who works as a scout for young girls.

“Bounce Ko Gals”, written and directed by Masato Harada, does an incredible job of capturing the fashions and trends of the period, while shining a light on the dark underbelly of society. The early scenes with the schoolgirls, with their famous roll-down white socks, fake-tan, and relatable obsessions, set the scene for a film that, despite an apparently exploitative story, firmly establishes things from their perspective. The cast all do a great job with a script that exudes believability, with coarse, unguarded conversations alongside moments of emotional candour between the friends. They are smart, funny, worldly wise and cynical, while also being victims of a society that sees female value only in terms of appearance and sex. The camera wends its way through crowds, plunging us right into the throngs of people, creating a palpable sense of energy and movement. Told across a single day, scenes often cross-over, with the camera following one group then catching sight of another protagonist and switching to them. This all goes to help the sense of a living, breathing city and real characters.

The film is an incredible social document, offering a window to this specific period in time, the world of ‘compensated dating’ and the sexualisation of young girls. We see various aspects of this, including girls selling their underwear and school uniforms; ‘talent’ scouts picking up girls on the street to sell to hostess clubs or pornography companies; and older men paying for dates with teen girls, usually with a sexual motive. The film steers clear of moralising, but rather questions the type of society where these behaviours are prevalent and, to an extent, normalised. It is a society where women and girls are considered second-class and existing only for the amusement of men. Also one where youth is fetishized. As the teens state at one point, high-schoolers (Japan has middle and high school), are already considered old ladies. However, this film empowers its protagonists, showing them as savvy and self-sufficient in the warped economy where money rules all and girls can be easily exploited. It shows the dangers of what they are doing too, with brief indications of brutal violence, but also there is a sense of fun and camaraderie between the girls that shines through. One important moment near the end of the film sees the trio of Risa, Raku and Jonko conversing while a group of priestesses perform their rituals nearby. It gives agency to them, and suggests that the choices women make are entirely their own and that it is possible to find strength through companionship in a world that seems determined to keep them down.

Matt Cooper Films

The Third Murder (2017) by Hirokazu Koreeda

When lawyer Tomoaki Shigemori (Masaharu Fukuyama) is brought in to defend Misumi (Koji Yakusho) on a charge of murder, it appears to be an open and shut case. Misumi confesses to the crime and appears remorseless. However, as Shigemori delves into his past and the details surrounding the crime a different story begins to emerge.

Writer-director Hirokazu Koreeda has made his name as an incredible film-maker with a string of family-focussed stories (“Our Little Sister”, “Like Father, Like Son”). With “The Third Murder” he brings his careful observations of human behaviour to the courtroom drama. The plot of the story is straightforward, with a lawyer defending a man he believes is guilty, but the world is packed with characters and moments that make deeper connections to universal themes. It is a dialogue- heavy film with characters spending a lot of time discussing the case details. This can make for a dry experience at times, but is made enjoyable in two main ways. Firstly, by turning the film into something more akin to a detective drama, with Shigemori interviewing various individuals and cross-examining the suspect, Misumi. In fact, the film shies away from courtroom scenes until its final third. Secondly, the performances, particularly from Masaharu Fukuyama and Koji Yakusho are exceptional, showing their experience and charisma on screen. Most of the standout scenes are featuring only the two of them conversing through a plexiglass screen. Mikiya Takimoto’s cinematography is slick and has a sombre tone that is fitting for the story.

“The Third Murder” investigates the very notion of truth. The lawyers are shown to be individuals for whom the truth is of relatively little importance. Their job is to have their clients acquitted, whether they are guilty or not. In fact, this very point is raised at one point by the prosecution attorney. It also looks at the notion of crime and guilt in relation to provocation, by contextualising the murder. Crime is a subject that provokes strong emotions but is rarely black and white. This film does a good job of explaining the potential pitfalls in jumping to conclusions.

Matt Cooper Films

Warm Water Under a Red Bridge (2001) by Shohei Imamura

Koji Yakusho stars as Yosuke Sasano, a man who has recently lost his job at a large company. After speaking to a homeless man, he learns of a treasure that was left behind when the man left another town some years before. The treasure is to be found in a house by a red bridge. Yosuke sets off to find the treasure for the man, being told that if he finds it he can sell it and keep the profits (the man only wants to know what happened to the treasure). When he arrives, he meets Saeko Aizawa, played by Misa Shimizu. The woman suffers from a peculiar condition which means that she feels herself filling with water. The only way to alleviate her discomfort is by shoplifting, or having sex, which causes the water to leak or gush out of her like a geyser. Soon Yosuke’s mission to find the treasure is forgotten as he becomes enamoured of Saeko, deciding to remain in the town, beginning a new life with her, and taking up a role aboard a fishing vessel.

Shohei Imamura won plaudits for his film “The Eel”, and “Warm Water under a Red Bridge” sees the writer-director again ploughing his own unique furrow. The film is a curious mix, with mystery, romantic drama and sex comedy thrown in. This sense of wrong-footing the audience pervades everything, and you are never sure whether you are watching farce or philosophy. Koji Yakusho and Misa Shimizu navigate their way through the genres, crafting believable characters in unbelievable situations. The film centres on sex and is humorously explicit while never being obscene in its depiction. The fountains of water spraying everywhere comically undercut the drama and create a sense of joy through humour that captures the emotion of love in a way that few films manage. Other characters, the three fishermen at the bridge, the marathon runner, and Koji’s workmates help to fill out a world that seems to be full of quirky individuals. The musical accompaniment by Shinichiro Ikebe is full of odd percussion and synthesisers, slipping from unnerving as Koji explores the unusual town, to comical as he gets entangled in ever more bizarre situations.

Trying to understand “Warm Water under a Red Bridge” is quite a challenge. It is a film that subverts expectations again and again, drifting from serious to ridiculous (often in the space of a single scene). It is a film that discusses the relationship between lust, sex and love. Yosuke is a man who is smitten with Saeko. Their passionate relationship is built around the sex, but the film asks what lies beneath this and what love is. Yosuke is also given good advice by his friend who tells him to stop overthinking things and to basically do whatever makes you feel good. This idea of seeking after personal satisfaction is one that pervades the film. Saeko is likewise a woman who is struggling to satiate her desires, and fills the emotional emptiness by stealing. The marathon runner, the fishermen, everyone is either waiting for something, searching or working towards some goal that is of the utmost importance to them. Yosuke is at first on the hunt for money, treasure, financial reward, and his journey of self-discovery is one that will lead him to the answer of what he is truly searching for.