The authors of films from this program, whether they adapted literary or comic book originals, seem to have followed the words of Slavko Mihalić who wrote that music was the art that helped him find himself throughout his whole life, calmed him down and renewed the sense of what he believed in and what he worked on
Until a few years ago, a few times a year Croatian film lovers had the opportunity to attend events such as the Review of Asian films and MaxTv Filmomania, which presented the most interesting recent films from Asian countries and introduced them to the most important representatives of Asian cinematography. When it comes to contemporary, older as well as classical Japanese film, Croatian fans of the seventh art had the opportunity to see The Twilight Samurai and Hidden blade and thus to get to know the work of the eighty-six year old Yoji Yamada, successor of Kurosawa and Ozu, who was the master creator of these elegiac, very suggestive, impressively atmospheric, warm, strong and wonderfully interpreted films with meticulously composed shots and rich in details that combine tradition with contemporary times. In addition, they got introduced to another talented filmmaker Katsuhito Ishii (The Taste of Tea, Smuggler), who skillfully directed films of different genres and displayed a strong tendency to dynamic narration and bold visualization. In the aforementioned humorous family drama The Taste of Tea, with an effective, meditative and stylized atmosphere as well as by incorporating surreal and fantastic details, he made a dedication to Ozu.
The aforementioned film reviews have since been discontinued and that only confirmed the bleak reality of domestic film distribution policy and practice, which is dominated by shallow Hollywood blockbusters, more or less trivial adaptations of comic books about superheroes that rely on Barnum’s special effects, uniformed infantile animated entertainment, non-humorous and tiring romantic and moronic comedies, as well as the self-chosen status of Croatia as a cultural colony where on the repertoire of mainstream film theatres (and not only those), there is no room for titles that stand out from utterly simplified commercial patterns but rather only for those that even if they do not come from Hollywood, mimic it to the utmost detail. More ambitious film buffs who do not manage to find new non-American and non-Hollywood films through private channels or download them from the internet, end up losing touch with the new production. In that sense, programs such as this one featuring contemporary Japanese films, revolving around music as the main thematic link, are even more important and interesting.
The authors of films from this program, whether they adapted literary or comic book originals, seem to have followed the words of Slavko Mihalić who wrote that music was the art that helped him find himself throughout his whole life, calmed him down and renewed the sense of what he believed in and what he worked on. According to Mihalić, music is the most wondrous proof that people are not alone and lost, and the same is more or less subtly or indirectly emphasized by the authors of all four films in this program. In addition, in a different manner but with a similar meaning, the authors elaborated on Beethoven’s words about music as a mediator between spiritual and sensory life, as a way out of severe and anxious situations of life, as a light in existential darkness and discomfort, as an aid in dealing with family and intimate dramas, tragic losses and real or metaphorical departures, or during challenges of growing up and maturing, making important life choices or when making general decisions on life routes and their intersections.
In the humorous musical existential drama Maestro! director Shôtarô Kobayashi, who often uses literary and comic book originals for his film and TV projects, adapted the popular manga with the same title by Akira Sasô (screenplay by Satoku Okudera) This award-winning seinen manga was published between 2003 until 2007 and it is primarily intended for teenagers. However, the critics praised its maturity, seriousness and intelligence as well as successful juggling between pronounced emotionality and unobtrusive educational elements, while skillfully avoiding melodrama, trivia and pathos. All these characteristics are evident in Kobayashi’s film, a clever and unobtrusively ambitious work that uses music in subtle analysis of personal dramas and frustrations of a series of main and supporting characters, relying on gradual revelations of details and scope of these dramas and frustrations, presented with utmost regard and often merely through glimpses and suggestions. In that way the director enables the viewers to detect what is left unsaid, hidden and only implied. This is a story about an orchestra composed of formerly respected but in the meantime, due to the economic crisis, fired and pauperized musicians, led by the young Kôsak, who will once again, under the guidance of the mysterious and at a glance eccentric older conductor Tendô (cult actor Toshiyuki Nishida from Sukiyaki Western Django by Takashi Miike and Beyond Outrage by Takeshi Kitano), start to regain their confidence and passion for music. Kobayashi managed to efficiently dilute the seriousness and even in some instances certain tragedy with pronounced humanism, empathy, humor and positive infantilism, which is embodied in the character of the young flutist Amana Tachibana, portrayed by the popular Japanese musician Miwa.
Have a song on your lips by the director Takahiro Miki is an adaptation of a novel by the productive and fairly young Japanese writer Hirotake Adachi from 2011, who usually publishes under pseudonyms Asako Yamashiro, Eiichi Nakata and Otsuichi. This is a film charged with emotions and atmosphere that skillfully balances on the edge of melodrama and pathos. At times it slips into melodrama in a story about a very talented and formerly famous pianist Yuri Kashiwaga who leaves Tokyo after an implied intimate drama and returns to her hometown on the Goto islands. There she starts to work as a substitute high school teacher and leads a school choir. She turns out to be the key figure in preparation of the choir for a competition. In order to motivate immature and insecure fifteen-year-old girls and boys she gives them a task to write a letter to themselves as if they were fifteen years older. At times poetic and meditative, this skillfully and unobtrusively directed film focuses on characters and their relationships and manages to handle with ease the occasionally elevated sentimentality.
Musical existential drama A Band Rabbit and the Boy directed by Takui Suzuki is an adaptation of the popular novel by Kei Nakazawa, (Michiko Ohishi wrote the screenplay). When it comes to its atmosphere, it similar to the previous film as it offers a balanced, non-pathetic and subtle story about a peaceful and introverted teenager Katsuhisha who avoids his schoolmates and spends most of the time in his house. Gradually, a vision of a mysterious humane rabbit urges him to change his behavior. The rabbit appears occasionally and can only be seen by Katsuhisha. After he joins the school’s music band, under the influence of the rabbit, the young man finds his guidance and support, especially for making future decisions and dealings with music, in the mysterious character.
In the end of the program, we will see the film Abraxas by the director and co-screenwriter Naoki Katô that was shown at the Sundance Film Festival as part of the World Cinema program in 2011. The director, whose role-models include directors Kiyoshi Kurosawa and Takeshi Kitano, made an intriguing story about the spiritual and existential crisis of a Buddhist priest and family man Jonen. He used to be a tough rock musician who once again starts to feel the awakening of the prematurely repressed passion for hard riffs and energetic concerts. As expected, the escalation of drama on many different levels is unavoidable and Jonen, convincingly portrayed by the real-life musician Suneohair, will face serious challenges and choices. (Josip Grozdanić)