"Sonatine" saw Takeshi Kitano throw in artistic elements which were purely aesthetic, that may be visually striking for some; and screaming pretention for others. "Dolls" - one of the few films he didn't star in - takes this balancing act to a far greater level, with elements that all will find impressive, though also find it attempting to place itself firmly within the plains of high art.
It starts with a bunraku theatre performance of two hopeless lovers. Hauntingly, the dolls beckon us into their world where we are shown three interwoven shorts of doomed love. The defining story is that of the "Bound Beggars", where Matsumoto (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and his catatonic partner Sawako (Miho Kanno) shuffle wordlessly along in outlandish costume, tied together at the waist.
Flashbacks reveal that the pair were once sweethearts, though in the interests of furthering his career, Matsumoto's parents encourage him to ditch Sawako for his boss' daughter. But on the day of his wedding, he learns Sawako attempted suicide and now sits in a psychiatric hospital, childlike and mute.
Back in the present, they pass the residence of a yakuza boss (Tatsuya Mihashi) who once a week goes to a park bench where the first love (Chieko Matsubara) he left has patiently waited every week for decades for his return.
The final tale is that of idol Haruna (Kyoko Fukada) and her obsessive fan Nukui (Tsutomu Takeshige) who works a traffic control job at a construction site. After Haruna is involved in a car crash and facially scarred, she shuts herself away from the public gaze. In order to meet her once again, Nukui blinds himself to get close.
From the off, with the bunraku performance, Kitano wants us to be in a haunting and mysterious world. The narrator's traditional rhythms start this off, before Joe Hisaishi's lingering soundtrack rises up over the porcelain-faced dolls in front of a black backdrop, taking us on to the other side. Immediately, we are put into a dream world of the unbelievable, making the foolish folly of the lovers' tragedies more palatable. These are not people of the real world, but people lost in artificial love.
The title implies that we are all passengers in love, hopelessly pulled on strings by others with no control over our own actions. Realism is not the aim of the game, with the opening theatre and haunting dream of a soundtrack setting this as fictional tragedy of days gone by.
The story of the bound beggars, however, is the star of the show, with the other two stories more supporting acts. The aesthetic of the film is defined by their wanderings, travelling through the picture-postcard four seasons of Japan, with cherry blossoms, deep red autumn leaves and the full snow of winter. Combined with their elaborate costume design from Yoji Yamamoto, the budget seems to be blown on them, with the more mundane scenes feeling a lot more basic in terms of production design.
As a complete film, therefore, this feels unbalanced, with some moments of beauty, followed by some more clunky scenes. The stronger parts, however, have enough to make this memorable, with certain scenes definitely designed to stay with you. But one of the few films he didn't star in himself, this is the least Kitano film he made. Not only absent himself, his comedy is missing as well, with few laughs and a more solemn, serious tone throughout.
The film, as is love, is enigmatic. The bunraku puppets are a moving image, and "Dolls" will haunt you more than anything. The mood is somehow reminiscent of Masaki Kobayashi's "Kwaidan" or Akira Kurosawa's "Dreams" in its provocative collection of short stories and memorable images. Far from Kitano at his best, it is an departure from what you would expect from the director, making it something of an enigma in his career, alongside the confused "Takeshis". One is unsure what Kitano fully wanted to achieve with this film, and, like love, it leaves you a little unsure how to respond.
Politic1983.home.blog.
It starts with a bunraku theatre performance of two hopeless lovers. Hauntingly, the dolls beckon us into their world where we are shown three interwoven shorts of doomed love. The defining story is that of the "Bound Beggars", where Matsumoto (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and his catatonic partner Sawako (Miho Kanno) shuffle wordlessly along in outlandish costume, tied together at the waist.
Flashbacks reveal that the pair were once sweethearts, though in the interests of furthering his career, Matsumoto's parents encourage him to ditch Sawako for his boss' daughter. But on the day of his wedding, he learns Sawako attempted suicide and now sits in a psychiatric hospital, childlike and mute.
Back in the present, they pass the residence of a yakuza boss (Tatsuya Mihashi) who once a week goes to a park bench where the first love (Chieko Matsubara) he left has patiently waited every week for decades for his return.
The final tale is that of idol Haruna (Kyoko Fukada) and her obsessive fan Nukui (Tsutomu Takeshige) who works a traffic control job at a construction site. After Haruna is involved in a car crash and facially scarred, she shuts herself away from the public gaze. In order to meet her once again, Nukui blinds himself to get close.
From the off, with the bunraku performance, Kitano wants us to be in a haunting and mysterious world. The narrator's traditional rhythms start this off, before Joe Hisaishi's lingering soundtrack rises up over the porcelain-faced dolls in front of a black backdrop, taking us on to the other side. Immediately, we are put into a dream world of the unbelievable, making the foolish folly of the lovers' tragedies more palatable. These are not people of the real world, but people lost in artificial love.
The title implies that we are all passengers in love, hopelessly pulled on strings by others with no control over our own actions. Realism is not the aim of the game, with the opening theatre and haunting dream of a soundtrack setting this as fictional tragedy of days gone by.
The story of the bound beggars, however, is the star of the show, with the other two stories more supporting acts. The aesthetic of the film is defined by their wanderings, travelling through the picture-postcard four seasons of Japan, with cherry blossoms, deep red autumn leaves and the full snow of winter. Combined with their elaborate costume design from Yoji Yamamoto, the budget seems to be blown on them, with the more mundane scenes feeling a lot more basic in terms of production design.
As a complete film, therefore, this feels unbalanced, with some moments of beauty, followed by some more clunky scenes. The stronger parts, however, have enough to make this memorable, with certain scenes definitely designed to stay with you. But one of the few films he didn't star in himself, this is the least Kitano film he made. Not only absent himself, his comedy is missing as well, with few laughs and a more solemn, serious tone throughout.
The film, as is love, is enigmatic. The bunraku puppets are a moving image, and "Dolls" will haunt you more than anything. The mood is somehow reminiscent of Masaki Kobayashi's "Kwaidan" or Akira Kurosawa's "Dreams" in its provocative collection of short stories and memorable images. Far from Kitano at his best, it is an departure from what you would expect from the director, making it something of an enigma in his career, alongside the confused "Takeshis". One is unsure what Kitano fully wanted to achieve with this film, and, like love, it leaves you a little unsure how to respond.
Politic1983.home.blog.