Tokyo Girl blindsided me with its profound exploration of the competing pressures placed upon women in post-1980s Japan.
The life of Aya, a small-town girl, is charted from her teens to her early 40s. Aya decides early on that she needs to swap what she finds to be a stifling provincial environment for the bright lights of Tokyo.
As Aya moves from one neighbourhood of Tokyo to the next in the years that follow, her motivations, dreams and desires evolve. Two main questions emerge concerning her survival: her professional life and her love life.
We witness her commence her professional career, initially naive but eventually recognising her worth and value, as well as taking pride in who she is as a woman in the world of work. Aya's story raises questions about the struggles overcome by previous generations of women to participate in work, and how far professional accomplishments can fulfil women.
From group dates to registering with a marriage consultancy, Aya seeks a partner, variably disappointed, used, forced to compromise and discarded by the men she meets. Tokyo Girl asks what makes a woman happy and whether a woman can be fulfilled without children, exploring the "violent societal pressure" placed on women to do it all and have it all: to excel in their professional life whilst also securing the perfect husband and being the perfect wife and mother.
It is a story of our often thwarted attempts to build and live our dreams and the eternal, futile hunt for better, bigger, more successful: in life and in love.
Ultimately, there is no utopian option. The folly of her youth gives way to acceptance of reality and the need to accept life lived "as an extra", rather than in the starring role we imagined. Aya reminds us of the many roads not taken in all our lives, and the need to find "small happiness" wherever we can.
The life of Aya, a small-town girl, is charted from her teens to her early 40s. Aya decides early on that she needs to swap what she finds to be a stifling provincial environment for the bright lights of Tokyo.
As Aya moves from one neighbourhood of Tokyo to the next in the years that follow, her motivations, dreams and desires evolve. Two main questions emerge concerning her survival: her professional life and her love life.
We witness her commence her professional career, initially naive but eventually recognising her worth and value, as well as taking pride in who she is as a woman in the world of work. Aya's story raises questions about the struggles overcome by previous generations of women to participate in work, and how far professional accomplishments can fulfil women.
From group dates to registering with a marriage consultancy, Aya seeks a partner, variably disappointed, used, forced to compromise and discarded by the men she meets. Tokyo Girl asks what makes a woman happy and whether a woman can be fulfilled without children, exploring the "violent societal pressure" placed on women to do it all and have it all: to excel in their professional life whilst also securing the perfect husband and being the perfect wife and mother.
It is a story of our often thwarted attempts to build and live our dreams and the eternal, futile hunt for better, bigger, more successful: in life and in love.
Ultimately, there is no utopian option. The folly of her youth gives way to acceptance of reality and the need to accept life lived "as an extra", rather than in the starring role we imagined. Aya reminds us of the many roads not taken in all our lives, and the need to find "small happiness" wherever we can.