Matt Cooper Films

Lala Pipo (2009) by Masayuki Miyano

Based on a collection of short stories by Hideo Okuda, “Lala Pipo” is a collection of interwoven narratives connected by themes of sex and loneliness. The opening monologue divides the world into two types of people, winners and losers, or ‘those who have sex’ and ‘those who watch sex’, referring to the humanities interminable struggle for dominance and atavistic competitive streak. This sets us up to be judge of the characters that follow, whether they are to be admired or pitied; in short whether they are the winners or losers alluded to. Hiroshi (Sarutoki Minagawa) is a freelance writer, a university graduate living in squalor and making a pittance, who pleasures himself to the sounds of his upstairs neighbour having sex. He later finds love in the voluptuous form of Sayuri (Tomoko Murakami), but he seems incapable of seizing this chance for happiness. It later transpires that Sayuri is luring men to perform unwittingly in a series of pornographic films. Tomoko (Yuri Nakamura) is a shy girl, picked up by Kenji (Hiroki Narimiya), a scout for hostess clubs and adult video, who cajoles her into entering the seedy world of pornography. He later takes on another client, a desperate 40-something housewife Yoshie (Mari Hamada) who he must find work for. Koichi (Tei Tomari), a part-time worker at a karaoke bar is disgusted by sex, fantasizing about being an interstellar traveller (his alter-ego Captain Bonito) studying the unpalatable carnal desires of humans; but it may be that his ostensible aversion is due to a supressed need.

With a screenplay by Tetsuya Nakashima (World of Kanako, Kamikaze Girls) and directed by Masayuki Miyano, “Lala Pipo” does a good job of telling several stories, each with their own dramatic arc, showing either the rise or fall of the characters, often due to some personality trait. Each storyline neatly overlaps with the others as we see several of the characters interact or cross paths. This allows the filmmakers to examine the themes of the film thoroughly, seeing the same events from several perspectives. There is a good mix of comedy and more serious themes in the film, including several hilariously surreal moments such as a green furry cartoon penis discoursing with one character, and another being transported into a gargantuan superhero to fight his worst enemy: a sexualised woman. Far from the two types of people the film proposes in the beginning, we instead see the uniqueness of each character. The film shies away from delivering a strong message or verdict on the characters, leaving that up to the audience to determine whether they are the winners or losers of their own lives. The actors are all fantastic as the film blends genres. The relationship between Nakamura and Narimiya is captured beautifully, with them see-sawing in terms of who holds the power. The comic actors, Tomoko Murakami and Tei Tomari help prevent the film becoming an unbearably depressing affair. Worthy of mention is the film’s set design, from the garish pink bedroom of Sayuri, to the heaped rubbish of Yoshie’s home, it shows us the various aspects of how people live, often hidden from the real world.

“Lala Pipo” may seem at first glance like a knockabout sex comedy, with perverts, porn actresses, miserable loners, and slick talent scouts, but as things progress it slowly reveals a darker side to the sex industry and people’s obsession with sex. One of the film’s strongest themes is that of the profound isolation experienced by people in society. Even those seemingly adored by fans often lack the basic human connections that help people get by. We see that both the playboy and the loner are at heart one and the same, both struggling to find something of meaning in their lives. Sex is not always a constant, meaning different things to different people. In the case of this film it can be a way of exploiting people, a goal, a perversion, or an escape. The characters show the desperation, jealousy, selfishness, shame, feelings of inadequacy, and other anxieties that confront people. The comedic performances and light-hearted tone help to underscore many of the more uncomfortable messages at its heart. An enjoyable film that says a lot about sex and society.

Matt Cooper Films

Confessions (2010) by Tetsuya Nakashima

A stylish psychological thriller that exposes the ever-present darkness as the heart of humanity, “Confessions” tells the story of a school teacher Yuko Moriguchi (Takako Matsu), whose 4 year old daughter Manami (Mana Ashida) is found dead in a swimming pool. While the police verdict is accidental drowning, Moriguchi knows that two of her own students bear responsibility for Minami’s death. Shuya Watanabe (Yukito Nishii) is a talented student who has a nihilistic outlook on life. Abandoned by his mother at a young age, he is narcissistic and lives only to prove his superior intelligence in the hopes of winning his absent mother’s attention and affection. He recruits his classmate, the underachieving and unsuspecting Naoki Shimomura (Kaoru Fujiwara), in hopes that the two of them will commit a crime that will finally gain him the respect he feels he deserves. Moriguchi tells the class that she will leave her job and, as her students are unable to be punished for crimes as minors, she has taken it upon herself to get revenge for the murder of her daughter. The film begins with Moriguchi’s story and moves onto the lives of the two boys responsible for her daughter’s death, as well as a third classmate, the enigmatic introvert Mizuki (Ai Hashimoto), both before and after the incident. Each new perspective draws us deeper into this twisted story of murder and revenge.

The film is based on the book by Kanae Minato with a script by director Tetsuya Nakashima. The story is divided into distinct sections, each narrated in part by a different character, occasionally achronological with overlapping moments from different perspectives. The opening monologue delivered by Takako Matsu’s experience acting in theatrical productions shows as she builds tension with her delivery of a long opening monologue. This scene, which takes up a large portion of the first half of the film is a fantastic introduction, setting up the dynamics of the characters and their personalities, the central themes, and a lot of exposition in an entertaining way. The young actors who play the three leads do an incredible job with difficult material. Yukito Nishii embodies the fears of parents and teachers everywhere as the irredeemably sadistic Shuya. Kaoru Fujiwara is sympathetic as the helpless accessory to murder who later reveals a darker side to his character. Ai Hashimoto does a good job with a relatively small role as Mizuki, a confused adolescent; and Yoshiteru Terada  offers some light relief as the oblivious replacement teacher Yoshiteru “Werther” Terada, attempting to raise the spirits of the class following Moriguchi’s departure. The film is shot in a highly stylized way with liberal use of slow motion and the plot unfolds at a crawl that further accentuates the feeling of dread, allowing characters to languish in their suffering or feelings of regret. A subdued colour palette and melancholy score echo this bleak tone. Almost each scene plays out in a half light that reflects the nihilistic worldview of the characters; with neither light nor dark, but a hopeless Sisyphean grind of life unfolding day by interminable day. With a strong original story, the cinematography and direction are used to create an artistic impression of what is unfolding, with striking visuals that enhance the force of the narrative; such as Shuya’s construction of a clock that runs backwards, or the cat and kitten outside his apartment.

“Confessions” is a film that deals with several difficult themes. The death of a small child will draw instant sympathy from the audience. It is a wrong that demands to be righted in any just world. A verdict of accidental death removes any hope of retribution for the crime, forcing Moriguchi to revenge herself upon her two students. By showing the story of Shuya and Naoki, the film asks us to consider their own right to life and what led them to this crime; also how blame is to be apportioned and what punishment may be justified. Mizuki’s character highlights the turmoil of conflicting adolescent emotions, her character sympathising with a schoolgirl who killed her family. Throughout the characters ask themselves what life is truly worth, each of them so lost in their own subjective realities and borne along by feelings of hurt and hate that they are unable to see that they are causing more suffering through their actions. Although the film muddies the morality of its characters, throughout it retains a strong message on the importance of human life. While it is almost unbearably bleak in its outlook, there are faint rays of hope that shine through; hints that things could be different, that ideals such as forgiveness and redemption are not unattainable.

Matt Cooper Films

Memories of Matsuko (2006) by Tetsuya Nakashima

Sho (Eita) is something of a dropout, having moved to Tokyo to be a musician, he is stuck in a rut. His father (Teruyuki Kagawa), who he hasn’t seen for two years, arrives to tell him that his aunt, Matsuko (Miki Nakatani), has died. Matsuko was apparently murdered in a park. Sho arrives at her apartment to clear out and is met by her neighbour who tells him Matsuko was disliked by those around her, with poor hygiene and odd behaviours, including screaming for no apparent reason. Sho is intrigued by his aunt’s story and so begins a journey of discovery as we are whisked back in time to follow the young Matsuko through several decades of her life. Beginning as a child competing for her father’s affections with her ailing sister; then a short-lived career as a teacher; Matsuko goes through a number of violent relationships, always searching for happiness and a sense of belonging.

“Memories of Matsuko” is artistic, vibrant, and exuberant, blending elements of fantasy and musical sequences with moments of brutal realism. The plot is cleverly constructed, with flashback sequences and the wraparound story of Matsuko’s nephew delving into his aunt’s chequered past. It never loses momentum and the two elements work well together. The film will often have characters describe something that happened, and then go back to show it, creating an expectation of upcoming events. Far from undermining the tension, after all the audience knows from the beginning Matsuko’s fate, it heightens a feeling of tragic inevitability. Miki Nakatani’s performance is exceptional, a complex character dealing with trauma and tragedy. The direction is frantic, flashing imagery and bright, varicoloured sets, blinding lights glinting through windows. The opening sequence and the massage parlour musical number are an assault on the senses and there is always the feeling that you are being shown Matsuko’s own view of particular moments in her life, part real-life and part coloured by her emotions. The set design of filthy, rubbish strewn apartments, the digitally enhanced fantasy funfair, are superb in creating a visceral, impactful sense of the psychological made manifest. Part of the film’s brilliance is being able to move seamlessly between various tones. There are dark themes of domestic abuse and parental neglect, alongside comedic scenes and moments of transcendental joy and hope.

This film is a masterclass in film-making, creating a truly unique experience that is engaging from beginning to end. As Sho delves further into his aunt’s colourful and atypical life, he learns what it is to live and to love. Matsuko seems to be a victim of fate, moving from one abusive relationship to the next, and seeing any happiness she finds snatched away from her. There are references to Dazai Osamu, famous author and suicide, that connect to the central themes of struggling to find a meaning or purpose for life, while being on a self-destructive path. This is counterbalanced by the religious notions, most notably embodied by the character who carries around a Bible and is obsessed with the phrase “God is love”, that seems to offer a more hopeful outlook for humanity. It is hard to break down everything in the film as it is so packed with incidence, touching on societal issues such as the sex industry, patriarchy and male violence, faith, mental health, relationships, family, and the nature of memory. An incredible experience that utilises the art of cinema to tell a compelling film packed with raw emotion.

Matt Cooper Films

Kamikaze Girls (2004)

Momoko (Kyoko Fukada) is living in a small rural village and has few friends. Obsessed with 18th Century France she dresses in frilly clothes, in the style known as ‘Lolita’. After her parents separated when she was young, her father began selling knock-off “Versach” merchandise. When his gangland past catches up with him they move to the prefecture of Ibaraki north of Tokyo. Momoko appears content to isolate herself from others, focussing on her fashion and saving money to buy clothes from her favourite store in Tokyo. Her peace is shattered when she decides to raise money by selling of some of their old fake clothing stock. The arrival of the rough and tumble biker Ichiko (Anna Tsuchiya) is a shock to the well-mannered Momoko. But Ichiko seems to grow fond of her, repeatedly appearing at her house, and soon the unlikely pair form an unlikely bond.

“Kamikaze Girls” is based on a novel by Novala Takemoto. Takemoto is also a fashion designer who has designed clothes for the label “Baby the Stars Shine Bright”, which happens to be Momoko’s favourite store in Tokyo. The film is directed by Tetsuya Nakashima (Confessions, World of Kanako), who does a fantastic job with the hyperactive teen aesthetic. The film is fast-paced, with intercutting sequences, flashbacks, and animation creating a colourful and chaotic world. It’s garish tone and in-your-face style are completely in keeping with the characters and story. While “Kamikaze Girls” certainly puts comedy before anything else, it never loses sight of its two protagonists. Momoko and Ichiko are the heart of the story, with their chalk-and-cheese personalities providing much of the impetus for the action. One is resigned to a life of solitude, while the other seems terrified of being alone. The performances by Kyoko Fukuda and Anna Tsuchiya are exceptional. Tsuchiya is outrageously boisterous as the biker, and Fukuda’s prim and proper Lolita is a great take on the stereotype. Both seem to be enjoying their roles and have good chemistry. Also giving an enjoyably quirky turn is veteran character actor Kirin Kiki as Momoko’s befuddled grandmother. Though entirely different you sense that their friendship is genuine. The music in the film is by Yoko Kanno (Ghost in the Shell) and underscores the visuals perfectly with a rock-pop vibe.

“Kamikaze Girls” is a fairly straightforward tale of friendship. Taking two young women with starkly different interests it shows how they can come together. The film delves a little into the background of each character, with dysfunctional home lives and bullying leading them down their respective paths. While this doesn’t overshadow the comedic tone of the film, it does offer some contrast to what is otherwise a lighthearted romp. The film also looks at the importance of socialisation for establishing a sense of self. Both characters are in their own way living an unbalanced life, drawn towards a particular subculture that gives them little sense of individual identity. One cannot form connections with others, while the other seeks out any kind of companionship even when it leads to her own corruption. Through each other they discover that it is important to broaden your horizons and look beyond your own narrow interests. Their relationship may seem unlikely at first due to their lifestyle choices, but it becomes apparent that they are both looking for the same thing in a trustworthy friend. “Kamikaze Girls” is a lot of fun to watch with a fast-paced story, likeable characters and a great sense of humour.