Righting Regrets: Tokyo Sonata Review

Quiet family dramas have decorated the Japanese silver screen for decades, with Yasujiro Ozu’s (小津安二郎) Tokyo Story (東京物語, 1953) garnering international acclaim as one of the greatest films ever made. Followed up more recently by Hirokazu Koreeda’s (是枝裕和) Still Walking (歩いても歩いても, 2008) and Like Father, Like Son (そして父になる, 2013), these slow yet emotionally charged films give their audiences a voyeuristic look into the lives of their characters, each making a subtle statement about love and loss in the Japanese family.

While Tokyo Sonata (トウキョウソナタ, 2008) merits inclusion in the aforementioned category of Japanese film, director and horror master Kiyoshi Kurosawa (黒沢清) makes some uncharacteristically imaginative choices for the traditionally straightforward genre. The film opens with a slow pan of the Sasaki (佐々木) house, the scene washed in a melody of flute and timid piano. The score sets the tone of the film: morose, yet faintly, almost reluctantly hopeful, and inexplicably nostalgic. We are introduced to father Ryuuhei (竜平), mother Megumi (恵), older son Takashi (貴), and younger son Kenji (健二), each character grasping at a sense of fulfillment that seems to be eluding them. The first two-thirds of the film is a patient downward spiral for the Sasaki household, eventually culminating in a single night in which Ryuuhei, Megumi, and Kenji each suffer their own ordeal. The question is ultimately posed: “What can I do to correct this?”

Tom Mes of Midnight Eye called this film Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s “most terrifying…because it is about us.”[1] The film is a little liberal with its take on reality, but even so, the circumstances surrounding the main characters have a numb, banal quality that is indeed frightening. What can you do with a life that has slipped from your grasp and is slowly drifting further and further out of reach? When is it too late to wrench it back into place? Here, the beast stalking the Sasaki family, specifically Ryuuhei and Megumi, is regret, and as our time with the Sasakis comes to a close, it is not clear whether it can be overcome.
Teruyuki Kagawa (香川照之) is simultaneously spiteful, vulnerable, and rash as the emasculated Ryuuhei, serving as the storm that drives the events in the film. Koizumi Kyoko (小泉今日子) as Megumi plays a toned-down version of her role from Hanging Garden (空中庭園, 2005), settling her character quietly into the background of her family’s collapse but playing the role with equal finesse. Both Takashi and Kenji, played by Yuu Koyanagi (小柳友) and Kai Inowaki (井之脇海), respectively, are also portrayed admirably, but the real heart of the film lies with the mother and father, who helplessly look on as their household unravels.

Japanese film fans who are accustomed to bloody masterpieces like Battle Royale (バトル•ロワイアル, 2000) and 13 Assassins (十三人の刺客, 2010) will likely find the film slow and uneventful. But in exchange, it is beautiful, frightening, hopeful, unexpectedly comedic, and numbingly heartbreaking. Give it a chance—while the blood doesn’t splatter, the film runs thick with emotional gore.
 

As a side note, if you like Tokyo Sonata, check out Kurosawa’s psychological thriller drama Shokuzai (贖罪, 2012, 5 episodes). The engrossing narrative may lead to an unsatisfying finish, but Kurosawa’s style runs strong and some familiar actors make reappearances.
 

References
[1] Tom Mes, “Tokyo Sonata,” Midnight Eye, May 17, 2008, accessed September 19, 2015, http://www.midnighteye.com/reviews/tokyo-sonata/.

Pramodh Ganapathy graduated from Duke in 2014.