To
the Japanese, occupations as benign as the folding of paper or the
serving of tea are considered strict and ancient art forms, performed by
those who have studied long and hard to perfect those crafts. No wonder
then that an act as significant as saying final goodbyes to a loved one
should merit all the ceremony and beauty the Japanese apply to everyday
tasks.
When
Departures begins, Western audiences will perhaps for the first time
witness the solemn elegance of an encoffining ceremony. The encoffiner,
or Nokanshi, performs a series of graceful rituals on the body of the
departed in full view of the bereaved family, wiping down the face and
limbs, changing their kimono and otherwise grooming the corpse in
preparation for the final step of cremation. Daigo, a young man fairly
new to the profession, performs his first encoffining, winding his hands
about the deceased in a weaving spell that mesmerises his viewers, that
is until he runs into an uncomfortable surprise. Daigo learns one of
many lessons in the subtle dance around a grieving family and their
complex stories.
Daigo’s adventures in the farewell trade weren’t something he planned.
Daigo had a very different life in mind as a professional cellist. The
dissolution of his orchestra due to financial hard times forces him and
his supportive wife to move back to Daigo’s hometown and rethink their
plans for the future. Desperate for work, Daigo answers a newspaper ad
seeking someone to work in “departures.” It’s only at his interview
that he realises a subtle typo has omitted exactly what kind of
departures the funeral home meant. Lured by a good pay and the
overwhelming presence of his forceful new boss, Daigo overcomes his
initial misgivings and repulsion and becomes a truly gifted Nokanshi.
Too bad for Daigo, others don’t see his new job in a very sympathetic
light: Old friends avoid him as some kind of a ghoul and his loving
wife, Mika, begs him to quit for the sake of their unborn child. Having
had to sacrifice his dream of playing in a successful orchestra to make
a living, will Daigo give up this new vocation just as he discovers his
talent for it?
Departures won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film earlier
this year and it deserved every ounce of gold on the statue. An
unorthodox original story about literally touching death is a brilliant
catalyst for the movie’s message of celebrating life. Through his
overbearing employer and the intimate views of the many different
families he meets along the way, Daigo is pulled out of his insular,
somewhat self-pitying shell. Where his world only consisted of himself
and his wife, Daigo realises the connections and common ground all
people share through loss and mourning and the rebirth that takes place
once final goodbyes are said. For the first time the young man takes
real pride in his work and it is only after Mika sees the invaluable
role he plays in comforting grieving families that she puts aside her
prejudice to appreciate him as never before.
For
its ostensibly dramatic premise, Departures is a hilarious film, not
afraid to go for the silly laughs when it pleases. The opening scene
with a gender bending-corpse, the initial misunderstanding with the
classified ad and Daigo nervously playing a corpse on an encoffining
instructional video are a scream. The oddball levity is unexpected and
perfectly weighed in this story about coping with death.
Masahiro Motoki is wonderful as Daigo. His quizzical expressions set
the right tone for the young man bowled over by the force of nature that
is his new boss and his natural inclination to run screaming from this
new profession. Motoki also captures the sensitivity of Daigo’s
struggles; first, seeing his dreams as a cellist turn to dust and
worrying about caring for his wife and new baby, coping with his unusual
new job and the strange social stigma that goes with it, then finally
dealing with a family situation he fought many years not to think about.
It is Daigo’s interactions with those around him, particularly his
bearish boss the funeral agency (Brilliantly played by Tsutomu
Yamazaki, who steals his scenes with sly, impeccable timing.),
Yuriko, the bawdy, down-to-earth receptionist and the elderly owner and
patron of Daigo’s hometown bathhouse that start to make his world
rounder. As Mika, Daigo’s wife, Ryoko Hirosue is absolutely darling and
the chemistry between the two actors is lovely. The viewer understands
that Mika makes sacrifices for love of Daigo, not because it’s
expected. She’s a noble character. Once Mika actually demands her
husband give up this crazy job, she does so with restraint and fire.
Their relationship and the compromises this young couple makes to have a
happy life seemed real and caring.
Of
course, as one would reckon from a movie about death and funerals there
are Kleenex moments, but none where you would expect them to be and when
they arrive those sniffles aren’t manipulated. There is a beautiful
scene where the camera pans around Daigo planted in the middle of an
empty field with snow-capped mountains behind him playing the cello he
used as a child. It’s a wonderful depiction of Daigo’s resignation to
his new work while remembering his love of the instrument and the
freedom it gave him to play. Daigo explaining to Mika the story of a
small rock he kept with him and its connection to the father who
abandoned him as a small child is heartbreaking. Director Yojiro Takita
weighs these moments carefully, being judicious and sparing in his
heart-string tugging.
Strangely haunting in the way it lingers in the mind and heart after
it’s over, Departures’ amazing achievement is in being a film about
death that is so truly beautiful, joyful and life-affirming.
Lovely, this.
~ The
Lady Miz Diva
May 28th,
2009
Click here to read our interview
with Departures star
Masahiro Motoki and director Yojiro Takita
for Tokyo FM with Megumi Sato.
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