For millions of people, the end of high school represents a kind of apocalypse where the frivolities of childhood are replaced with college applications, after-school jobs and, for better or worse, an enlarged awareness of the world. Such is the milieu of Neo Sora’s feature-directorial debut. Set in ‘the near future’ with Japan caught between constant earthquake threats and rising fascism, the film follows a group of friends as they try to reckon with the pains of growing up in a society that seems ever closer to the brink of chaos. As an immigrant constantly facing anti-Korean sentiment, Kou sees this as their opportunity to fight for a better world; but his best friend, Yuta, thinks that ‘the world has already ended. We might as well have fun.’ Sora does a good enough job of making sure each character’s arc feels full and relevant, but I think the ideological struggle between these two characters reflects the core question at the center of the movie: when repressive societal surveillance is at an all-time high and environmental catastrophe seems inevitable, what does it really mean to fight for change?
This question haunts the script, becoming omnipresent even when we’re merely watching them spend time together, but maybe this is on purpose. While the film itself offers no answers, as we see this group of young people delivering each other food or even lying on the ground scrolling through social media, we come to understand just how important community is. The conclusion particularly emphasizes the need to make personal sacrifices if we are to collectively move forward. I think the script does a great job of communicating these points largely thanks to its patience. Sora never rushes a shot. We hang in certain moments with these characters for quite a while before cutting to the next scene, giving audiences the chance to really be in tune with their relationship dynamics, which endears them to us and keeps us immersed in whatever’s onscreen. The result is a film that’s emotionally affecting. I think a big reason this heartwarming script works so much is the acting.
This isn’t to say I think one particular actor really knocked it out of the park (though Yukito Hidaka and Hayato Kurihara did bring a ton of commitment, range and depth!). Rather, I would say it was the chemistry between all the actors that really produced the effect the film has. They really do seem like a group of friends, and the warmth amongst them feels genuine. This might be because Sora isn’t afraid to show that friendship also comes with its trials and tribulations. Particularly once Kou starts to become more politically aware, we see his frustration with Yuta’s care-free lifestyle start to make it hard for him to even speak to the guy who was once his childhood best friend. They argue, they demand their own space and, ultimately, they make up. It’s a dynamic, lived-in feeling that’s given to this friendship, and I think it’s very successful, particularly when paired with the music.
I’d go as far as to call Lia Ouyang Rusli’s score a character in itself. It’s thematically relevant, since the entire friend group enjoys house music, and considering house music’s radical history (a history the film directly refers to at one point), I think it represents the importance of catharsis and celebration in the fight for a better world. This is made explicit after a particularly successful protest, when one organizer tells Kou that she doesn’t see why everyone’s so happy. After all, they’ve merely asked someone powerful to do the right thing. No radical change was accomplished. “If you act that way, you’ll never make any friends,” he jokes. Bill Kirstein’s cinematography also speaks to this point. He photographs Tokyo so beautifully at night; not in a Michael Mann way, either. There’s nothing slick or ‘cool’ about these visuals. They’re very warm and delicate, often reflecting the tone of the friends’ interactions as they walk home from school or a late party. It’s a film that’s clearly emphasizing the need to seek beauty and meaning, hinting that both may be found in our ability to connect with other people even amidst so much unrest.
To me, that was where the earthquakes came in: a physical manifestation of our need to find stability amidst an ever-changing, sometimes-perilous world. It can be enough to freeze people, but to do so would be to forego the very thing that makes life worth living. Maybe that’s why it’s such a funny film, encouraging us to find humor and beauty where most wouldn’t bother looking for either. Either way, it’s a miracle this beautiful movie also happens to be jam-packed with political relevance. Happyend releases in Japan on October 4, and I hope it eventually makes its way to the states or at least to a streaming platform, because I promise it’s one of those movies you simply have to watch.
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