Perhaps I have a heart of stone, or less melodramatically, maybe I was gassy at the time, but I simply did not care for Departures, this year’s Best Foreign Language Film winner. There is the possibility that I was biased from the opening shot, believing that a film as excellent as the Austrian film, Revanche, couldn’t possibly deserve to have lost to a Japanese ode to death. And half way through, I was really into Departures. I even got a misty one or twice. We are, after all, dealing with people saying goodbye to their loved ones, and I truly don’t believe I have a heart of stone. I think it’s just the same old horseshit relationship dynamics tinged with a bitter rage that a bunch of old fartfucks belonging to the prestigious Academy gave this film the top foreign honor (I could have fathomed Waltz With Bashir, and I was completely prepared for the overrated The Class to win) that made me dislike it.
Departures centers around Daigo Kobayashi (Masahiro Motoki), an insecure young cellist having the bad luck to finally makes his way into an orchestra which ultimately goes broke and dissolves. Unable to pay for his brand new cello, and admitting to himself that he doesn’t have the kind of talent or skills to make it into another orchestra, Daigo moves himself and his wife to his deceased mother’s house in his old hometown. His wife Mika, (played by a cutesy Ryoko Hirosue) agrees to come along, claiming she would be happy with this decision. Come to find, Mika’s a little irritated about the move and shit hits the fan when she discovers Daigo’s new position is helping prepare the dead for funerals, which he had been keeping secret. Much ado is made about what a shameful profession this is (even though we all die, and for a country big on traditions, I find the attitude toward Daigo’s character almost ludicrous) and Mika leaves Daigo, going back to the city, we assume. As Daigo seems to flourish and finds his “true” calling to the position that had been originally been advertised mistakenly (Departures should have read Departed—you can predict that we’re also dealing with various other themes concerning human relationships other than dying), he grows close to the older gentleman that hired him, Ikuei (Tsutomu Yamakazi) and his wife returns, pregnant and using this as a ploy to make Daigo quit his job.
Perhaps it’s our current economical situation on this side of the hemisphere, but the man has an extremely well paying job, due to the fact that it’s considered so shameful---one must have an attitude of hubristic magnitude to turn their nose up at an opportunity such as this. He deals with less bodily fluids than a physician. Christ.
Top this with a wife that claims to love him, yet requires that he abandon their means of support with a baby on the way because her pride is hurt. Maybe this is just my own identity as a gay man taking charge, but since gay people don’t procreate (so easily) and as most of the US is still in the grip of a childish ignorance supporting the fact that gay people can’t be legally bound to one another, well, it makes it so much more difficult depicting gay relationships in movies---you can’t slap convenient plot fallacies on representations of us. So Mika comes running back because she’s pregnant, not out of love. Much of Daigo’s character make-up (i.e., his insecurities) stems from when he was abandoned by his father at the age of six. Well, guess what happens? Daigo gets to prepare his father’s body for funeral. A whole theater full of little old ladies got out their hankies while I squirmed in revulsion. Daigo’s co-worker, Yuriko, has abandoned a son herself, and when Daigo at first decides to neglect taking care of his father’s corpse, Yuriko tearfully steps in and urges him to see his father one last time. She herself still refuses to go see her son. What results is a scene that is meant to be cathartic, but for bitter Betty’s like myself, I couldn’t swallow it. There’s no reason Daigo’s father couldn’t have contacted him before he died---why are children supposed to accept their parents’ irreproachable behavior? I for one, do not. Daigo’s father deserved to die how he lived – alone. And what I fail to consistently see in films depicting some of these relationships is a genuine change of heart —what really changes Daigo’s mind when for the past two hours it’s painstakingly reinforced that he has daddy hatred? What’s really holding Daigo and Mika together? A fetus, it seems. If you ask me, which you aren’t but I’ll tell you anyway, that not only tenuous, but ludicrous. What’s meant to be a schmaltzy story about letting go of loved ones doesn’t quite make it into Capraland to be enjoyable for the jaded likes of me. And yes, I dislike it even more for winning its naked little man statue---the darker side of human nature, unfortunately, tends to be more believable. And does he play the cello in the grassy fields, the wind grazing over the landscape and tussled hair underneath the bright, blue, omniscient sky, the snow-peaked mountains looming in the distance? Oh, you better believe he does.
Departures centers around Daigo Kobayashi (Masahiro Motoki), an insecure young cellist having the bad luck to finally makes his way into an orchestra which ultimately goes broke and dissolves. Unable to pay for his brand new cello, and admitting to himself that he doesn’t have the kind of talent or skills to make it into another orchestra, Daigo moves himself and his wife to his deceased mother’s house in his old hometown. His wife Mika, (played by a cutesy Ryoko Hirosue) agrees to come along, claiming she would be happy with this decision. Come to find, Mika’s a little irritated about the move and shit hits the fan when she discovers Daigo’s new position is helping prepare the dead for funerals, which he had been keeping secret. Much ado is made about what a shameful profession this is (even though we all die, and for a country big on traditions, I find the attitude toward Daigo’s character almost ludicrous) and Mika leaves Daigo, going back to the city, we assume. As Daigo seems to flourish and finds his “true” calling to the position that had been originally been advertised mistakenly (Departures should have read Departed—you can predict that we’re also dealing with various other themes concerning human relationships other than dying), he grows close to the older gentleman that hired him, Ikuei (Tsutomu Yamakazi) and his wife returns, pregnant and using this as a ploy to make Daigo quit his job.
Perhaps it’s our current economical situation on this side of the hemisphere, but the man has an extremely well paying job, due to the fact that it’s considered so shameful---one must have an attitude of hubristic magnitude to turn their nose up at an opportunity such as this. He deals with less bodily fluids than a physician. Christ.
Top this with a wife that claims to love him, yet requires that he abandon their means of support with a baby on the way because her pride is hurt. Maybe this is just my own identity as a gay man taking charge, but since gay people don’t procreate (so easily) and as most of the US is still in the grip of a childish ignorance supporting the fact that gay people can’t be legally bound to one another, well, it makes it so much more difficult depicting gay relationships in movies---you can’t slap convenient plot fallacies on representations of us. So Mika comes running back because she’s pregnant, not out of love. Much of Daigo’s character make-up (i.e., his insecurities) stems from when he was abandoned by his father at the age of six. Well, guess what happens? Daigo gets to prepare his father’s body for funeral. A whole theater full of little old ladies got out their hankies while I squirmed in revulsion. Daigo’s co-worker, Yuriko, has abandoned a son herself, and when Daigo at first decides to neglect taking care of his father’s corpse, Yuriko tearfully steps in and urges him to see his father one last time. She herself still refuses to go see her son. What results is a scene that is meant to be cathartic, but for bitter Betty’s like myself, I couldn’t swallow it. There’s no reason Daigo’s father couldn’t have contacted him before he died---why are children supposed to accept their parents’ irreproachable behavior? I for one, do not. Daigo’s father deserved to die how he lived – alone. And what I fail to consistently see in films depicting some of these relationships is a genuine change of heart —what really changes Daigo’s mind when for the past two hours it’s painstakingly reinforced that he has daddy hatred? What’s really holding Daigo and Mika together? A fetus, it seems. If you ask me, which you aren’t but I’ll tell you anyway, that not only tenuous, but ludicrous. What’s meant to be a schmaltzy story about letting go of loved ones doesn’t quite make it into Capraland to be enjoyable for the jaded likes of me. And yes, I dislike it even more for winning its naked little man statue---the darker side of human nature, unfortunately, tends to be more believable. And does he play the cello in the grassy fields, the wind grazing over the landscape and tussled hair underneath the bright, blue, omniscient sky, the snow-peaked mountains looming in the distance? Oh, you better believe he does.
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