Dolls

In "Dolls" Takeshi Kitano moves away from his peculiar ultra violent cinema and gives us his most poetic and introspective movie. He resorts to the crossing-stories structure to tell us three tales about love and regret, about doing anything for the person you love (and I mean ANYTHING). Calm, almost without dialogs, full of symbols and metaphors, every shot looks like a postcard. The minimalistic soundtrack and the amazing photography (wich stands out every single colour on the screen) catch you as you follow the tragedies that hide in every one of the stories. Kitano expands his horizons and demonstrates that he's a hell of a talent no matter what the genre is.

PS: not recommended for the impatient.

My rate: 8/10

Matsumoto (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and Sawako (Miho Kanno) are in deep love for each other. When the president of the company where Matsumoto works "selects" him to marry his daughter, Matsumoto's parents force him to accept the engagement. On the wedding day, Matsumoto is informed that Sawako has attempted to commit suicide and is slow and catatonic in a clinic. Matsumoto feels guilty, and takes Sawako out of the clinic; his decision affects their lives.

The old Yakuza boss Hiro (Tatsuya Mihashi) misses his girlfriend from thirty years ago that has promised to wait for him in a park while he would chase success. When Hiro visits the park, he sees her on the bench where they used to meet each other.

The pop-star Haruna Yamagushi (Kyôko Fukada) has an obsessive fan called Nukui (Tsutomu Takeshige) that stalks her. After a car accident, Nukui makes a decision to be close to his beloved idol.

"Dolls" is a sad and depressive movie based on the Japanese Puppet Theater Bunraku that tells three tales of guilt and eternal love. Each tragic love story is disclosed in a very slow pace and supported by stunning cinematography and excellent direction and performances. Takeshi Kitano has also a magnificent work promoting the culture of his country overseas. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Dolls"

Praising or dismissing "Dolls" as pure aesthetics is just a banal way of labeling something that is beautiful which does not lend itself to immediate understanding. Just because any number of the meanings of the film don't jump out and bite the viewer is no reason to dismiss it as only aesthetically pleasing. We've got plenty of nature scenes and people starring blankly into space in cinema. They are not all masterpieces and "Dolls" would not be even half decent if that's all it was. If you feel the need to like this movie, then a better expression of this feeling is need than saying, "It's purdy."

As for myself I found there we several themes running through the film that merit investigation. First of all, the idea of hierarchy in relationships. In all the relationship there was a clearly dominant partner (yakuza, pop-star, groom) and a clear subservient partner (lady on bench, fan, discarder girlfriend). At the beginning of the film their supremacy is flaunted. They come and go as they please and treat the other member of the relationship flippantly and with little regard. They believe themselves to be the more powerful person in the relationship and think they are not as dependent on the so-called weaker member as the weaker member is on them. So times passes, some strange occurrences take place and whom do these people come back to? Who are the most important people in their lives? Those weaker partners. In the end, they and we realize that the stronger or more assertive member in a relationship is just as dependent on the weaker member as the weaker is on the strong. In this context they are seen as both playing roles essential to the relationship, the fact that one is more forceful than the other does not undermine the importance of the less assertive person¡¦s role. Of course this is not to be taken literally and applied to all relationships but it is a comment on or investigation of the idea of stronger and weaker partners in a relationship. The ultimate conclusion is a deconstruction of the hierarchy that shows the partners to be equal or at least codependent.

The next question is: "Why were all of these relationships unsuccessful?" My ascertation is that this plays into the strict nature of Japanese culture and Kitano's own morose sense of destiny, seen most vividly in "Sonatine". All the male characters make major life mistakes in the film. They attempt to rectify them by seeking comfort in the person they have wronged, or in the case of the blind man in the person with the closest connection. Why are they not allowed to start again? Why do they all fail? So many films are about starting over, that it's never too late to turn over a new leaf, old dogs can learn new tricks etc, etc. While I'm quite glad this is not the story of a spunky middle-aged former soccer mom who finds true love the second time around, I don't see the point in the absolute negation of the power of reconciliation. You'll have to ask Kitano about all that. I'm no Japanese cultural expert, though I have been there, but this seems to fall in line with the rather strict and unforgiving personality of Japanese society. If you've made a major mistake you have to accept it and take all the consequences willingly and bow to whatever your fate may be in response to those consequences. Kitano seems to embrace this idea of not being able to escape destiny in many films, I already mentioned "Sonatine" as a particularly poignant example of this.

I still think the ¡§Hanabai¡¨ is Kitano¡¦s best work, although watching a bunch of psychotic Japanese people run into walls and fall flailing into moats on Takeshi¡¦s Castle is good too. Dolls is interesting, worth a look and still better than 99% of films out there.

Told through a mixture of old Japanese culture and contemporary film- making, the three separate love stories overlap and interweave cleverly but subtly, too.

Without any sullying from saccharine sweetness or melancholy, all three tales strain the credibility of what we would normally think a person's love for another would go to. But, that's the beauty - this is a dream- felt movie, exaggerating hardship and our emotions to emphasise that extraordinary bond that love can be.

It's all interconnected by symbolisms and the extraordinary cinematography of Katsumi Yanagijima has us shimmering and floating in rose gardens, amongst autumnal leaves and under cherry-tree blossom. It is here that we take breath and sigh, after the often difficult human journeys we've just seen the characters go through. We cannot help but feel that we have journeyed with them - and perhaps suffered too.

To me, it's the first story of the jilted bride who's rejection sends her insane and the subsequent redemption and dedication from her boyfriend to the extent that they become homeless that it the most moving. Their story united the other two stories and adds symbolism at the end. The tale of the ageing Yakuza who finally feels that he needs more than his violent lifestyle to exist as a human being and the fanaticism for a young pop singer also paint vivid pictures on Japan's social and cultural agenda.

It did remind me of south Korea's 'Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter...' in that often idyllic and contemplative gestures and activities are interspersed with morally questioning random acts that leave cavities in people's lives and the atonement needed to rectify them; or at least to try to, in a soul-satisfying way.

"Dolls" is a gripping lesson in film as a visual medium, even when exploring territory that Beckett and Bergman handled verbally.

Takeshi Kitano wrote, directed and edited with astonishing beauty and poignancy, way beyond the audience pleasing romp of "Zatôichi: The Blind Swordsman." With minimal dialog, he is in a great partnership with the breathtaking cinematography of Katsumi Yanagishima, which uses seasonal changes as powerful visual and emotional metaphors as did "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring (Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom)," and the moody music of Joe Hisaishi, which effectively switches back and forth from traditional to Western instrumentation, as the film opens with a Bunraku puppet theater performance and then the stories of three casually intersecting couples gradually enact the sensibility of this what I presume is a traditional tale. The senses are so powerfully called upon that when two blinded characters stand in a rose garden I practically smelled the flowers.

While I am sure I missed a multitude of references and symbols, particularly colors, to elements of Japanese culture past and present, the very powerful themes of the spectrum of ambition destroying love such that love becomes a guilt-filled responsibility at one extreme and obsession at the other are similarly hauntingly recalled in Western culture, such as in old English ballads and more contemporary versions like "The Long Black Veil" and Springsteen's "Reason to Believe." I also felt resonances from "Waiting for Godot" to classics sensitively sympathetic to love-tossed women as "Madame Bovary" and "Anna Karenina."

Flashbacks are used powerfully in a Joycean stream of consciousness way, so that we see the memories, dreams and disturbing nightmares of the characters'associations, literally showing us the Faulknerian dictum that "The past is never dead. It's never even past." This adds considerable emotional build-up for each character as they restlessly return to geographies with meanings to their lives and we gradually see what they were like before their current emotionally (or in some cases physically) stunted states so we heartbreakingly understand their personal iconography, particularly for those two unforgettably bound beggars.

There is no Hollywood happy endings for these couples, only acceptance of the fates they have consciously and willingly chosen and committed themselves to. But their resignation is thrillingly moving in its very graphic representation.