Yûko no tenbin

Small principal cast, handheld cameras, location filming, no music to speak of: 'A balance' is a small production, resulting in a film of no especial renown. That it looks as terrific as it does, with fine production values, is surely a tremendous credit to all involved, for I can think of plenty of other titles of a broad similar nature whose lo-fi, indie, or even homegrown roots shone through. And all this only means that the picture is all the more striking and powerful as the story unfolds; in fact, the outwardly modest presentation allows the drama to resonate entirely on its own in a manner that arguably may not be the case with more polish. And do not take this to mean that this feature was shaped with any less skill or intelligence - on the contrary, even as filmmaker Harumoto Yujiro's career is small, and this is only his second outing as a director, it is unquestionably sharper and more potent with its understated tenor than many more established individuals have achieved. It's evident to me that Harumoto knew exactly what he was doing, as writer, director, and editor alike, and most certainly cinematographer Noguchi Kenji and sound technician Oguro Kentaro. In turn, while it was by little more than a stroke of luck that I came across this title, I am exceptionally pleased with how smart and careful it is, in every regard. Very plainly, 'A balance' is a movie that deserves far more recognition.

For as shrewdly as this was crafted at large, carving out remarkable success even with a heavily muted tone, that accomplishment belongs to the actors, too. The material is difficult, and the hushed bent Harumoto maintains as director only compounds the challenge; only infrequently does the narrative or any given scene allow an opportunity for more stark feelings to shine through. And still the cast is undeniably a major strength here, broaching complex characters in a complex scenario with truly admirable nuance that belies the complicated emotional depths at hand. Even as some enjoy roles that are much more prominent than others', it doesn't seem fair to single anyone out as even supporting cast members like Umeda Masahiro and Wada Misa absolutely shine with what time they have on-screen. Mitsuishi Ken and definitely Kawai Yumi, as Mr. Kinoshita and Mei respectively, occupy parts that are much more fraught, but they navigate the characters with obvious deft capability. Above all, as Takiuchi Kumi stars as protagonist Yuko - documentarian and part-time instructor at her father's cram school - she faces the greatest acting demands, but in my opinion she nails it. Yuko exists on the razor's edge between "trying to keep her cool" and "cold and calculating," and I'm of the mind that Takiuchi realizes that duality with gratifying subtlety and poise.

And it must be said that the divide Yuko rides does not make her any less of a sympathetic character. It sounds black and white on the surface, but it is emphatically not, for this is the tricky space that Harumoto plays in with his screenplay that, overall, is downright ingenious. One particular line given to the protagonist is a fair summary of the whole as she intones, "What's moral isn't always what's best." In a narrative that to one degree or another draws upon bullying, sexual relationships with minors, institutional corruption, irresponsible news media, cover-ups, self-protection at the risk of others, and more, these aren't even the focus but only the circumstances as Yuko, spearheading a television documentary about a controversial incident at a high school, discovers a secret in her own life that echoes her work and upends everything. With that premise in hand, the real meat of 'A balance,' and its true thematic core, is the complexity of pursuing and telling the truth. Yuko's work is a painful mirror of our reality as it reveals a society quick to form snap judgments, blame victims, and even hound innocent people who are simply on the sidelines of an event; under such conditions, revealing the truth can be at least as devastating as concealing it, and maybe more so. The truth may be moral, but is it really what is always best? If pursuing or telling the truth may be harmful, is cold calculation and a cool, level head necessary to ascertain the best path forward, and to take it?

These are the notions that the film explores, and in so doing it is altogether spellbinding. Harumoto is operating in a massive, ambiguous grey area, and there is not necessarily a definitive right or wrong. Reasonable arguments could be made one way or another, and the only thing that can be said for sure is that Yuko is complicated, and so are all these characters, and so are the situations they find themselves in. The dialogue is stupendously thoughtful in turn, and each scene and the full plot are captivating despite generally being so low-key. It's fascinating, and it's all that the picture needed to be to stand out as a quiet tour de force, the type of flick that doesn't tell viewers what to think, but only to think, and to think hard. So it is a tad unfortunate that 'A balance' is flawed, with discernible weaknesses. Even as the focus never wavers once it comes into play, the fact is that the third act quite decidedly falters. In the last forty to forty-five minutes of the length Harumoto introduces a succession of turns in the story that add even more to the murky quagmire while amplifying the drama. That succession of turns was frankly unnecessary, and it does feel somewhat forced; my favor is reduced in some measure for these beats that were ultimately unnecessary. All that Harumoto actually needed to do was to stay the course with the miasma of events that were already transpiring and stewing, and I believe the end product would have been even stronger had that been the case. Sometimes less is more, and the application of superfluous plot ideas - however fairly well considered and realized they may be - is a mark to some extent against the purity of what could have been.

The self-sustaining drama sputters some in its last stretch - a last stretch which could have honestly been rewritten, and reduced, dropping the two and one-half hour runtime by at least a bit. And still, even at that, far more than not the sum total is so superbly strong that this excess is ably woven in. It bears imperfections, but a few hours or days or weeks from now my lasting impression will hinge much more on the marvelously bright reflections that Harumoto made paramount to his brilliant sophomore directorial effort, and his debut as a writer. Faults and all, 'A balance' is splendidly well done overall, raptly absorbing, and deeply thought-provoking. Flawlessness is not required for a feature to stun, nor does it guarantee the same, and some works that I dwell on the most I would put on much the same level as this. I'd stop short of saying this 2020 release is a must-see, yet if one is receptive to the quietly ponderous side of cinema, then this most assuredly earns a high recommendation as far as I'm concerned. I'm so very pleased with how good 'A balance' is, and I look forward to seeing what Harumoto may do in the future.