Boneca Inflável

If you're thinking: "Oh, those wacky Japanese. A movie about a blow-up doll who, keenly aware that her function is to provide sexual pleasure, comes to life. That'll be fun!", you will be surprised, if not disappointed, by this film. Du-na Bae does a few scenes in her birthday suit, and spends most of the rest of the film in cute little outfits with very short skirts—one of them being the maid's uniform you see in the poster—but there isn't much that's erotic, let alone prurient, about this film at all. It's sad and melancholy. And innocent.

There are three things that contribute to the superbity (yep, I'm going with it) of this film. The first is the cinematography by Mark "Pin Bing" Lee. Remember that name. If he's the director of photography on a film, you can count on it at least looking good. The second is the soundtrack by World's End Girlfriend—which is actually just one guy who specializes in other-worldly noise experiments with hints of jazz and classical. His work here creates a hip, contemporary, and dreamlike atmosphere, and since this is a film about the emptiness and isolation of modern life, it's a good thing. The third contributing factor is the masterstroke of casting Du-na Bae as the Air Doll. It's hard to think of another actress who could have made such a success of the role. Bae is a fearless, talented, versatile actress and she also somewhat looks the part with her large expressive anime inspired eyes. She's also Korean, giving her a head-start playing a fish out of water in this Japanese film. There are few actors who can convincingly run through a range of several emotions in a matter of seconds without moving a muscle in their faces. Bae is one of those actors, and she does it often.

The film starts right off with the Air Doll inexplicably "finding a heart" and coming to life. She sneaks out during the day, while her owner is at work, to discover the world and its characters. She gets a job at a video store and when one day she accidentally cuts herself, and starts losing air instead of bleeding, a co-worker who seems completely non-plussed by the event puts a piece of tape on the tear and blows her back up. They fall in love. If there is one sexy scene in the film, in a sort of convoluted way, it's when the two "make love". The guy wants to take off the tape and watch her lose air and then watch her re-animate by blowing her up again. When the Air Doll wants to do the same by cutting the guy, things don't turn out as she expects. Bae plays the scene in a very convincing way.

Air Doll has a slow pace and a number of characters seem to just float by without explanation but when it's all over they will have made sense. The central conceit of the film doesn't hold up to scrutiny if you think about it too much so if any of these kinds of things bother you, take a pass. There is also an extended scene where the Air Doll meets her maker. The director seems to have wanted to use this meeting to explain the film, "Aren't we all just empty vessels"? Although the scene is a touching one, I could have done without it, not only because it would have tightened up the film, but also because I don't like it when directors make beautiful films and muck them up with verbal explanations of what they are trying to present metaphorically.

Korean actress Bae Doo-na is superb in Japanese director Hirokazu Koreeda's latest film Air Doll. Shown at the Vancouver Film Festival, Air Doll is based on the Japanese manga The Pneumatic Figure of a Girl and tells the story of a life-size inflatable doll used as a sex object for a lonely waiter who finds a heart and becomes a real person. The film is supported by the enchanting photography of Mark Lee Ping-bing who worked with Hong Kong director Wong Kar-wei in In the Mood for Love, and poetic images abound. When the film opens, Hideo (Itao Itsuji), returns from work as a waiter and begins a conversation about his day and everything seems normal until we discover that he is talking to a doll propped up in bed that he calls Nozomi, (the name of his former girl friend). Though she is a mannequin, he tells her about his life, gives her a bath, dresses her, and has sex with her each night.

One morning, Nozomi (Bae Doo-na) wakes up and finds her heart and is transformed, at least as far as appearances are concerned, into an ordinary human being. Displaying the innocence of a child, Nozomi, dressed in a French chambermaid's uniform, goes out to explore the outside world and finds out what it means to be human (and how society treats women), picking up patterns of speech from neighbors, but comes home each night to resume her roll as the compliant inanimate doll for her master. Nozomi soon lands a job in a video store and quickly learns about movies though she has never seen one and develops a friendship with the attendant Junichi (Arata), while continuing to believe that her only function is to provide sexual pleasure.

Promoting the idea that everyone is empty at their core and must be fulfilled by the companionship of others, Koreeda introduces a host of minor characters such as an old poet who feels betrayed by the world, the doll maker who created her, a woman fearful of being left alone, and a bitter old woman. Junichi abruptly learns about Nozomi's non-human status, however, when she falls and pricks her arm and all the air is drained out of her. In a very erotic scene, Junichi inflates her by blowing air into the plug in her stomach and their relationship is sweet. Nozomi discovers, however, that being half human and half doll is not fulfilling and wishes to become fully human but cannot find anyone to help her, turning to her maker (God?) for assistance.

Air Doll is a sweet, sad fable about the loss of innocence and Bae Doo-na is funny and touching in the role of a childlike doll in the tradition of Pinocchio. While it is valuable to view the world from a childlike perspective and discover once again, for example, how beautiful the stars are, having a mannequin eventually become a mirror of humanity's dark side serves little purpose. Yes, life is ugly and beautiful, sad and full of joy, but this is hardly a revelation. The film, which took nine years from planning stages until completion, has important comments about alienation in the modern world, but at two hours the simple premise is stretched too thin. Koreeda makes the point repeatedly about the emptiness of humans, forgetting that cities are home not only to lonely, alienated, and empty people but to brilliant, fulfilled, and compassionate individuals who contribute much value to our world.

Air Doll is a poetic, unhurried, beautifully shot and poignant movie which may remind you of Lars and the Real Girl, Artificial Intelligence, Enchanted, Cyborg She, Pinocchio and Toy Story, yet it distinguishes itself by its poetic quality and focus on the emptiness of city life.

Indeed, city dwellers resemble sex dolls. Lacking souls and uniqueness, they can be easily substituted by others. Nozomi's sex with three different men exploiting her and treating her as a substitute is one of the examples. Degrading themselves by treating each other as functional objects, they will be forgotten once they become useless. A dead person therefore is depicted as a piece of garbage.

Moreover, some city dwellers prefer to live alone and sometimes they feel lonely. The movie reminds us that humans should have companions. DVDs gradually replacing cinemas also indicates that people nowadays prefer solitude.

Apart from these, city slickers value money and sex more important than soul and love. For instance, a man prefers an air doll to a real woman and even a little girl prefers a ring to a doll given by her mother.

Despite the gloomy atmosphere, the movie reminds us of the cycle of life which consists of not only downs, but also ups. Although plants wither in winter, they grow in spring. Perhaps we should learn from Nozomi who tries to appreciate every moment of happiness, be it fleeting or lasting, for instance, gazing at stars and even a raindrop, admiring the breathtaking scenery in the city, embracing a man she has a crush on while riding on a motorcycle, etc. Indeed, Nozomi is already happier than other real human characters in the movie.

Starring as an inflatable sex doll with a soul, Korean actress Doona Bae (The Host, Linda Linda Linda) gives a convincing and dazzling performance in this Japanese movie. The audience will be amazed by every nuance of her expressions / movements and the daring naked scenes.

The renowned Taiwan cinematographer Mark Ping-bing Lee (In the Mood for Love) succeeds in capturing the mood of this lonely city by often panning his camera slowly to observe loners. The dreamlike music by World's End Girlfriend also adds much purity, mystery and melancholy to this fractured modern fairy tale.

Although the plot would become more substantial if other minor characters were further developed, they help illustrate how lonely and alienated humans are.

After seeing this haunting movie, one may leave the cinema with a heavy heart and a deep sigh, trying to feel one's long-lost soul and pondering on the meaning of ephemeral life.

Hirokazu Koreeda is one of my favorite directors and his previous movies like Maborosi, Nobody Knows and Still Walking are highly recommended.

Writer-director Kore-eda has a strong fanbase in Singapore after his well-received Nobody Knows garnered him quite the following from a screening here years back. No sooner than the festival's tickets had gone on sale that it registered its first sell-out session in Air Doll, and two other subsequent repeat screenings released had all its tickets already snapped up. Either that, or the appeal of watching a sex doll come to life under Singapore's R21 rating uncut is too hard to pass up. I had that opportunity to partake in a masterclass session with Kore-eda during last year's Tokyo International Film Festival where three of his films got screened overnight with the director and his guests in attendance, but alas I wasn't in top form to have covered it. I'm regretting it now.

The other film I had watched with a sex doll featured prominently in the story was Craig Gillespie's Lars and the Real Girl starring Ryan Gosling, where his character bought a custom made sex doll over the internet not for sex, but for companionship. Personally I've always thought it creepy for anyone to own a doll to interact with and yikes, to make love to, and here even christening it Nozomi. But as a character in Air Doll puts it, a real life relationship may be too hard for some folks to handle because it comes with inevitable problems, warts and all. And yes while that's the truth, I still can't fathom the necessity of owning a doll for sexual gratification, but I digress.

Kore-da's Air Doll is a fantasy film along the lines of Pinnochio, where an inanimate object comes to life and dreams of being a real boy. Here, it's all the more creepier when the air doll Nozomi suddenly without reason nor forewarning, starts to move on her own, and develops heart and soul through the course of the story. She doesn't need to yearn to be real, because she's almost real, utilizing clothing and makeup to conceal portions of her that are tell-tale signs that she's a life-sized made-of-plastic Barbie doll coming in the form of Korean actress Bae Doo-na (last seen in the Korean monster film The Host).

Bae brings her Nozomi a sense of that wide-eyed wonderment of the real world, and her performance as a plastic inflatable doll is flawless, with Nozomi constantly in amazement from the assault of the senses of sight, sound and touch. There's also a comedic innocence brought about through her zilch knowledge of the real world, which of course we'll expect this to be exploited by nastier humans, because the world is as evil as such, where innocence has no place once her honeymoon period is over. Balancing her routine very carefully with that of her owner Hideo's (Itsuji Itao) in order to enable her to work at a video store in the day, living an independent life undetected, and then being back at home on time to fulfill Hideo's sexual needs, things start to become a little more complicated when she develops feelings for her colleague Junichi (Arata).

Paced slowly to mirror Nozomi's journey of discovery of all things beautiful, from cosmetics to toddlers to that proverbial flower along the sidewalk, Air Doll contains a few scenes that provide that stark commentary about the emptiness of soul and the loneliness experienced in big city living. To Nozomi it's an abstract concept that she grasps only literally, but for the rest of us, we're likely to nod in agreement with the statements, since we're experiencing such feelings day in and day out. It is these episodes and incidents, through Nozomi's interactions with others that bring the film to life, and some of these can be as short as one self-contained scene like the one on the bus where she lends her shoulder to a sleeping man. It's all within our means to show a little compassion and to make the world a better place to live in.

While yet consumed with a pop kind of feeling throughout, and Kore-eda's most erotic film to date, the film is a meditation of life, and the fragility of it, where people are constantly in search of substitutes for things they cannot obtain to fulfill some need or want, which reflects quite well of our modern life where distractions are many, and substitution being a way of life from products to services. I absolutely loved how Kore-eda provided us scenes of satisfaction with a montage of lonely people doing simple things, to that switch later on with dissatisfaction with the same. It's a wonderful fantasy film that makes us reflect on our own parallels, but doesn't do so in a preachy way, instead relying on tragedy and especially comedy through the literal interpretation of things, to lighten the mood.

The science-fiction equivalent will be something like Spielberg's A.I., where a young robot embarks on a quest to find his mother and become a real boy This air doll has plenty of humanity inside her, full of soul and that never-ceasing innocent curiosity that makes it a delight to watch, maintaining touching aspects to tug at your heartstrings. I'm quite certain the audience who have snapped up tickets so eagerly won't be left disappointed.

Once again, Koreeda Hirokazu puts the finger on his recurring topic: the insular lifestyle in urban Japan, and how interactions fail to achieve fulfillment.

The premise of a sex doll coming to life may appear a bit irksome, but 'Air Doll' is Koreeda's most introspective film to date because he establishes a solitary principal character observing her surroundings. This allows for a somewhat analytical narrative comment which goes beyond an exclusive focus on Tokyoites. The deductions of the doll Nozomi could be well transmitted to postmodern society as a whole: love excludes ownership, submissiveness culminates in (self)destruction and abandonment, and there is no remedy for a human heart. Some of the lines by which these points are made seem truly unforgettable, such as when the doll's creator mentions that the only distinction between humans and dolls is that we are combustible, while they are non-combustible trash.

As a result, 'Air Doll' is very philosophical and dark, maybe a bit exceedingly so. Yet the film doesn't ignore the humorous implications of an air doll coming to life, which makes for a few breaks in the simple story, as do a number of well-placed side characters. And the slow pace typical for Koreeda's films, plus wonderfully imaginative photography sum up to a thoroughly enjoyable and gratifying movie experience.