ara tinc força,
no tinc l'anima morta, i em sento
budge the sang.
(Serrat, 1967)
I thought this movie Japanese splendid run by a Franco-Vietnamese on a bestselling novel (eight million copies in Japan only) by Haruki Murakami and I have not read. So save me having to say anything about it so boring if the movie does justice to the novel. Since the two arts, literature and film have different languages, the question of adjustment to each other is quite empty.
is a story of love between kids in his very early youth, almost a teenager. In two of them in the childhood and adolescence. A tragic story because it opens with a death and ends with two. Love and death are always a fascinating filigree. If, moreover, is treated with delicacy, sensitivity, elegance and beauty that is wasted here background watermark is enshrined in another visually and audible to the sublime. The scenes are gorgeous, mountains, forests, grasslands in the different seasons, the wild seas of Japan. On the soundtrack we hear, among others, the Doors, the Beatles Norvegian Wood and swear that there are gaps in the chair.
The complex and delicate web of crossed lovers, full of doubt, anxiety, dramatic decision of regrets and obstinacies in lives that are galloping passion is embedded in the late sixties of last century. In two or three strokes Tran Anh Hung portrays the university environment by 1967. Zengakuren groups , with helmets and sticks to racing enclosures, facing police, disrupting classes, chanting Maoists are far outside the hubbub of the day itself. Then the story concentrates on its immediate players to those who still like a glass bell because they live their isolated thunderstorms in the conflict environment. The script only takes very accurately to the workplace of one of them and shops selling vinyl, very typical of the sixties.
The popular syncretism of Japanese culture is evident. Tastes and habits of youth are tempered by Western but indigenous customs and practices, based on mutual respect, delicacy, civility and acceptance of authority, as contradictory as it may seem at times of revolutionary upheaval. There are pieces that, by the slow pace and the preciousness of the images in situations of confinement, recall Antonioni. And somewhere I read that the girl's stay in a psychiatric facility in the mountains is a kind of reference to Magic Mountain , Although the only similarity I see is in the magic that I feel, is typical of the mountains.
But those are issues that the film setting masterfully resolved. The interiors of the houses, the hall, kids' apartments, homes, clinics, public buildings, the streets of Tokyo always amazed by the balance of the compositions. But is that, setting. The heart is the story itself, the plot, what there is to tell, that's what usually was missing in Antonioni. A real blast from close-ups of very pure sex scenes we go deeper into the turmoil of the passions of people between nineteen and twenty, when the blood boils , but with the puzzling peculiarity that nobody breaks their composure and raises his voice (much less the hand) or you are the nerves (even those who are ill of them), despite the cruel suffering that they inflict on one another, drunk with happiness. Driven by ideals, readings, love that tears, a sense of duty and naively transcendent purposes, young actors finally facing life after an experience and a memory that will mark forever.
life, neither more nor less.
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