Matt Cooper Films

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.

Matt Cooper Films

From Miyamoto to You (2019) by Tetsuya Mariko

Hiroshi Miyamoto (Sosuke Ikematsu) falls in love with Yasuko Nakano (Yu Aoi) at first sight. Compassionate and caring to a fault, Miyamoto is even undeterred by Yasuko’s former boyfriend barging into her apartment while he is there. Their relationship soon hits rocky waters however when Yasuko is raped by the son of Miyamoto’s boss, Takuma (Wataru Ichinose), a tough rugby player whose charisma earns him an invite to sleep over at Miyamoto and Yasuko’s apartment following a drinking session. Following the attack, Miyamoto decides to go all out to hunt down Takuma and punish him, but finds it difficult given his physical weakness. This frustration at his inability to protect Yasuko and harm Takuma sends him spiralling into a rage for revenge. Things are further complicated when Yasuko discovers that she is pregnant.

Director Tetsuya Mariko (Destruction Babies) continues his fascination with male violence in this adaptation from the manga by Hideki Arai. The film is achronological in structure, beginning with a sequence showing Miyamoto bloodied from a fight and apologising to his boss for a recent fracas. We then see Yasuko, who is pregnant, and Miyamoto at their soon-to-be parent’s in laws, explaining that they are to be married. It makes for a bold opening, raising questions about what Miyamoto was fighting for, how this couple, who may have secrets they are keeping from their parents met, and exactly what is going on. Sosuke Ikematsu and Yu Aoi are excellent in the lead roles, able to shift in an instant from cosy, likeable couple, to screaming fury or howling grief. It is a change that is required as the sucker punch that comes in the form of Takuma, played perfectly with charmingly concealed malice by Wataru Ichinose, shifts the film from a simple drama into something more akin to a theatrical tragedy. From the realism of these early conversations we are suddenly given their souls laid bare, the pain and suffering evident in their faces, tears streaming, snot flying, beet-red contorted physiognomies leaving nothing to be expressed. The latter half of the film sees Miyamoto on what might be described as a legendary quest to slay the monster who has perpetrated this evil on his princess. He sets out with grim determination, the low chance of success driving him to increasing anger. “From Miyamoto to You” is a film that plays with expectations in more ways than one, with the structure offering us a puzzle to piece together once all the evidence is gathered, and a strange concatenation of tonally divergent moments. This is evidenced early on with the appearance of Yasuko’s former lover, which is at once alarming, suggestions of infidelity and perhaps domestic abuse, and amusing, with his unhinged rambling and bizarre behaviour. Later in the film we are given an even starker example in the fight between Miyamoto and Takuma, which runs the gamut from horror to slapstick and back as they trade blows.

The framing of Miyamoto is incredible, with Mariko showing a flair for staging the actors for maximum impact. The contemplative moments, with individual characters or couples framed by the environs of their apartments, are captured with a clever use of camera and minimal movement; while the latter explosive emotional outbursts are captured with an eager and energetic camera that pulls us into the action.

“Miyamoto” is a film about male potency and how men see themselves, both personally and in terms of their relationships. The rape in the film is truly shocking and unexpected and the uncomfortable feeling of being violated remains with the audience throughout. In the past films have dealt with the consequences of rape for the victims, but here the focus is on the partner of the victim and how he comes to terms with both what has happened and his inability to prevent it. The film deals with primal fears and emotions, with the protagonist battling his own inadequacy along with the injustice that has been perpetrated. The fantastic performances by Ikematsu and Aoi as this loving couple who are torn apart by tragedy help to draw us into a narrative that offers a glimpse of humanity at its most brutal and atavistic. Despite the violence, the film nevertheless has moments of hope, with Miyamoto’s quixotic quest bringing out his best qualities as well as his worst.