I am switching my links to Letterboxd because they also provide direct links to IMDb and TMDb, so it’s more convenient this way.
四月は君の嘘 / Your Lie in April
2016, Takehiko Shinjo
A (nerdy, of course) piano prodigy who lost his ability to play after suffering a traumatic event in his childhood is forced back into the spotlight by an eccentric girl (a beauty, of course) with a secret of her own.
zzz
Sigh… what we won’t do for (certain) women. I managed to get hold of another with Suzu Hirose, but… it wasn’t a good one 
Yes, it is as tropey and cheesy and “by the numbers” as the IMDb blurb above suggests, a 2h long string of cliches… at least it does not have BS (bullying in school) 
A live-action remake of an anime, and also acted just like an anime - and no, that doesn’t work with live-action) 
Didn’t watch the source anime (it’s a series), don’t plan to 
It does have the expected awesome cherry blossom scenery in the “spring” section, sunny seascapes and lovely sunsets in “summer”, magnificent foliage in “autumn”. Also, some nice violin and piano pieces - at least they sounded nice to these mostly tonedeaf ears 
I’ll keep mum on Suzu Hirose as I’m not sure she was an adult yet when this was filmed 
By the way, what’s the age of consent in Japan - 18 or 20?
それから / And Then
1985, Yoshimitsu Morita
In early 1900s, 30yo Daisuke comes from a wealthy family and can afford to not work and devote his attention to literature and music… although his relatives expect him to get a job and struggle to convince him to marry. When his old friend Hiraoka returns home with his wife Michiyo… we find out why Daisuke hasn’t married.
zzz
Now, judging from the brief summary of Natsume Sōseki’s soruce novel on Wikipedia, it seems a considerable part of it did not make it on-screen. The film chooses to focus on the characters mentioned above, reducing other story threads.
But although the love story takes centre-stage, there’s still enough social context in there for it to make other points as well.
As for the love story itself… well, it is… very Japanese, let’s put it that way. Characters’ decisions that led to the current situation and its conclusion feel very specific to them, not at all sure it would have worked out in the same way in the Western world.
It is a slow (dead slow, be warned), quiet (even when it all blows out), gentle (delicate-like), and… above all, restrained film. Restraint reigns supreme. Infuriatingly so, even. People do not talk about nor act on their feelings, leading to no happy end. Actually, there is no clear ending, the title in fact comes into play at the last scene ends and fades to black:
And then… well, dear viewer (or reader, I surmise), make of what may have happened next what you will.
It is beautifully shot, an absolute joy to look at.
Even on DVD it looks good but oh how I would love a 4k with HDR flavour to make it really shine.
Well directed and well acted too… there’s a long(ish) single-take about 2/3s in, between Daisuke and Michiyo: nothing happens, and everything happens, all at once. Exceptional, really. But, man… that damned restraint!
It reminded me in this, and in its mood overall, of In the Mood for Love.
In fact, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if Wong Kar-wai either read the book or saw this film. There’s more than just a hint of it in his…
And after all, during それから the music somehow felt very familiar… only for me to check the crew credits after and find that the score is composed by the same Shigeru Umebayashi who did the music for WKW, some 15 years later:
https://youtu.be/szCUJQcb6y0?si=6oaVAgbsTmtv8iMz
Anywho…
This one goes straight at the top of my “best older films watched for the first time this year” list.
Just wonderful!
And one day I’ll read that book…
珈琲時光 / Café Lumière
2003, Hou Hsiao-hsien
Yoko, a young single pregnant woman in modern day Tokyo, searches for a cafe that was frequented by a Taiwanese composer in the 1930-40s. She is aided by Hajime, a bookstore owner who has his own project around Tokyo’s railway spiderweb.
zzz
Shochiku Studios commissioned several directors to make films reflecting on the themes of Yasujirō Ozu (whose name is pronounced completely different from what I thought it was, I heard it this week in one of Bunpro’s sample sentences and it was crazy) on the occassion of his birth centennial.
This is one of those, my second by Hou Hsiao-hsien, this time set exclusively in Japan with only Japanese actors.
While it wasn’t as impressive as Millennium Mambo, I still liked it quite a bit. Like the other, it abounds in long takes of not much happening, with very little dialogue (and not all of it translated in the subs I had), natural “acting” (that is to say, not quite acting, with a feel of it all being improvised) and banking on eliciting emotion from depicting the mundane - on this last part, it more or less works, it’s certainly not as raw and touching as MM was. Plus, there’s no Shu Qi here and her absence is indeed felt.
And while it was a nice homage to Ozu, where it did succeed (for me at least) was in reminding the viewer that Ozu is dead, and along with him, Ozu’s Japan.
Yoko is a modern Japanese woman, not willing to sacrifice her independence and feelings for the sake of the family. She even sometimes wears an earring, albeit it’s only one not two…
Her father is also “modern”, in that he’s mostly silent and deferent (but also… weary?), having little in common to Chishû Ryû’s “family patriarch” roles. But he does love and respects his daughter, showing his feelings in his own way.
The country is no longer the same, either. While the countryside still feels a little “stuck” in the past and tradition, Tokyo is from a different world entirely with its bustling lifestyle and the miriad of trains coming and going and intersecting can be memerizing. Thankfully, “refuge” can still be found in the quietness of an old-fashioned cafe or in a small bookstore. Some people, even if they don’t look each other in the eye, will still lend a hand when needed. While others move on carelessly when a woman isn’t feeling well…
That’s not to say that change and progress aren’t good, but also, some good things can get lost along the way, too. Despite some sense of hope for the future (at least as far as Yoko and Hajime are concerned), the pervading feeling was that of loss, for a bygone era…
Anyway.
I’ve now added some more 5-6 films by Hou Hsiao-hsien to my watchlist.
And I should watch another from Ozu soon, it’s been almost too long since the last.