50 reviews
Still Walking is an intimate movie about a family reunion. Its observations about family dynamics are the most true to life I have ever seen. The movie paints the entire gamut of emotional family experience with delicate yet powerful brush strokes but it's not a sentimental film, nor an opportunity for actors to grandstand. It's Japanese, so all the strong undercurrents of emotion are held in check by equally powerful restraint (both cultural and directorial). A brother and a sister attempting families of their own go to visit their parents in Yokohama. The parents have lost a son and the family's devastation hangs heavy in the air. You can actually feel it bearing down on your shoulders from the first frame. Anybody who has ever spent the night at the house of relatives will feel the weight of family history that this film captures so truthfully.
The parents are engulfed by their quiet, ongoing grief and the surviving children resent all the attention given to the one who is not there anymore. The movie is surprisingly mordant, touching, cruel, sad, funny: human. The mother is this wonderful woman who cooks up a storm (I so wanted to be invited to that house). She is from an older generation, which means she has been forever in the shadow of her husband the doctor, cooking and cleaning and feeding the children, but she is not a pushover, nor a saint. She is mischievous, catty and petty, prejudiced, funny, generous and cruel at the same time. She is a marvel, and the actress who plays her is astonishing.
This movie has many emotional surprises that make the audience gasp, but they are presented with a sure, light touch, never falling into easy sentiment, never shying away from human complexity. It's a film about family, and love and duty and regret and it is stunningly beautiful.
The parents are engulfed by their quiet, ongoing grief and the surviving children resent all the attention given to the one who is not there anymore. The movie is surprisingly mordant, touching, cruel, sad, funny: human. The mother is this wonderful woman who cooks up a storm (I so wanted to be invited to that house). She is from an older generation, which means she has been forever in the shadow of her husband the doctor, cooking and cleaning and feeding the children, but she is not a pushover, nor a saint. She is mischievous, catty and petty, prejudiced, funny, generous and cruel at the same time. She is a marvel, and the actress who plays her is astonishing.
This movie has many emotional surprises that make the audience gasp, but they are presented with a sure, light touch, never falling into easy sentiment, never shying away from human complexity. It's a film about family, and love and duty and regret and it is stunningly beautiful.
- grandenchilada
- Aug 28, 2009
- Permalink
Few other nations can capture the beauty of family drama with such subtlety and grace as the Japanese can. Perhaps it is a blessed legacy left behind by the master Yasujiro Ozu who in his lifetime made over 50 films, all of which are family dramas that often dealt with generational gaps. Japan, more than any other nation struggles with the problem of generational gap, being a nation that has continued to endure conflict between the young and the old, the traditional and the modern. Stepping into Ozu's shoes is the acclaimed director Koreeda Hirokazu, whose films "Nobody Knows" and "After Life" has already garnered universal praises.
"Still Walking" begins as a family reunites to commemorate the death of one of its members. With new members joining the family and old wounds resurfacing, everyone tries their best to pass the two day gathering with as little problem as possible. Sounds simple doesn't it? Well, therein lies the plain and subtle beauty of the film. From a few words exchanged between the grandfather and his new grandson to the laughter of three children as they caress a blossoming flower, these simple moments will linger in your mind with tasteful resonance long after the film.
While watching the movie, I found it hard not to be immersed by the beauty of Japanese suburbia. I could picture myself - like the characters, taking a stroll on a simmering summer day with the cool breeze in my hair as the gentle picking of guitar strings play in the background. Or perhaps eating lunch and drinking cold ice tea on tatami mats as the wind-charm tickles with the slightest vibration. "Still Walking" is a meditation on life and death that may just move you to tears...without even trying.
"Still Walking" begins as a family reunites to commemorate the death of one of its members. With new members joining the family and old wounds resurfacing, everyone tries their best to pass the two day gathering with as little problem as possible. Sounds simple doesn't it? Well, therein lies the plain and subtle beauty of the film. From a few words exchanged between the grandfather and his new grandson to the laughter of three children as they caress a blossoming flower, these simple moments will linger in your mind with tasteful resonance long after the film.
While watching the movie, I found it hard not to be immersed by the beauty of Japanese suburbia. I could picture myself - like the characters, taking a stroll on a simmering summer day with the cool breeze in my hair as the gentle picking of guitar strings play in the background. Or perhaps eating lunch and drinking cold ice tea on tatami mats as the wind-charm tickles with the slightest vibration. "Still Walking" is a meditation on life and death that may just move you to tears...without even trying.
- allstar_beyond
- Jul 16, 2009
- Permalink
A middle-aged brother and sister and their families visit their aging parents on the fifteenth anniversary of their brother Junpei's death from drowning while saving another boy. Relationships between generations are strained, however, and patriarch Kyohei (Yoshio Harada), a former doctor, does not hide his resentment for his surviving son Ryoto (Hiroshi Abe), an out of work art restorer. Selected as the best film at the Toronto International Film Festival in a poll of film critics and bloggers, Hirokazu Koreeda's Still Walking is a family-oriented comedy/drama about generational conflict and the consequences of loss. Unfolding in real time over a twenty-four hour period, it has been compared to Ozu's Tokyo Story in its intimate interchanges that accurately capture the way families relate to each other but lacks Ozu's warmth and subtlety.
The day is spent with routine activities such as preparing meals and playing with the small children. Kyohei remains detached and hides in his office, pretending to be occupied with medical business. He only emerges to bicker with his wife (Kiki Kinn) and play with his grandson. Ryoto, who did not look forward to the reunion, is put off by his father's disdain for his profession of art restoration and his coolness toward his new wife Yukari (Yui Natsukawa). She craves acceptance for herself and her son Atsushi (Shoehi Tanaka) from a previous marriage in which her husband died. A picture of the deceased Junpei is placed in the center of the Yokoyama family house reminding Ryoto that whatever he does, he cannot measure up to Junpei, who was to be his father's heir.
He also notices that his sister Chinami (You) has no such expectations and her life with her car-salesman husband and two children seems outside of the range of family conflicts. When the boy that Junpei rescued visits the family, sneering remarks are made about his bulky frame and lack of ambition and old resentments come to the surface. After Chinami and her family leave, it is clear that Ryoto wishes he had not agreed to spend the night but conflicts seem to soften with the passage of time. Based on a novel by the director and occasioned by the death of his mother and the discussions of his childhood they had during her last days, Still Walking has a sense of naturalism and simplicity that is endearing.
The day is spent with routine activities such as preparing meals and playing with the small children. Kyohei remains detached and hides in his office, pretending to be occupied with medical business. He only emerges to bicker with his wife (Kiki Kinn) and play with his grandson. Ryoto, who did not look forward to the reunion, is put off by his father's disdain for his profession of art restoration and his coolness toward his new wife Yukari (Yui Natsukawa). She craves acceptance for herself and her son Atsushi (Shoehi Tanaka) from a previous marriage in which her husband died. A picture of the deceased Junpei is placed in the center of the Yokoyama family house reminding Ryoto that whatever he does, he cannot measure up to Junpei, who was to be his father's heir.
He also notices that his sister Chinami (You) has no such expectations and her life with her car-salesman husband and two children seems outside of the range of family conflicts. When the boy that Junpei rescued visits the family, sneering remarks are made about his bulky frame and lack of ambition and old resentments come to the surface. After Chinami and her family leave, it is clear that Ryoto wishes he had not agreed to spend the night but conflicts seem to soften with the passage of time. Based on a novel by the director and occasioned by the death of his mother and the discussions of his childhood they had during her last days, Still Walking has a sense of naturalism and simplicity that is endearing.
- howard.schumann
- Oct 4, 2008
- Permalink
Its not often I return to see a film immediately to see it again, but this is a film which demands it. This is a masterly film by Koreeda following an ordinary middle class Japanese family has they have an annual reunion to commemorate the older brother who died rescuing a boy from drowning. In its slow, gentle, poetic way, this film brings us into the heart of the family so well you feel it is your own - indeed, the characters are so real, so richly portrayed, that you almost come to believe you know them as well as your own family.
A simple plot précis doesn't do justice to what this film is about. It shines a light into those repressed areas of resentment, sentimentality, nostalgia, guilt and desire that are so often hidden behind a facade of politeness. Koreeda is too subtle a director to have any big blow ups or surprises - he reveals his characters in a gentle manner as detail is laid upon detail. When the ending comes it is not a surprise, but it is still profoundly moving and thought provoking. This is a film that will stay with you long after you leave the cinema.
A lot has been made about the films debt to Ozu. I think this is very overstated - although there are one or two stylistic nods to Ozu at the beginning, Koreeda is a very different type of film maker. Unlike Ozu he uses tiny surreal moments of beauty to contrast with the realism of the rest of the film. His use of editing and camera work is far less formal and rigorous - instead he allows the camera to follow the characters, revealing the layers of the home. And most importantly, while Ozu emphasised the death of the traditional Japanese family and considered it with sad resignation, Koreeda sees families as all alike, stuck in a series of inescapable cycles. In many respects this film reminded me more of some of Naruse's classic films than Ozu.
The cast is uniformly excellent, with Kiki Kirin utterly wonderful as the grandmother. The only very small quibble I have with the casting is that Koreeda succumbed somewhat to casting some characters who are a little too elegant and good looking for the 'normal' people they portray. Hiroshi Abe and Yui Natsukata are maybe a little too good looking to be convincing as the less than 100% welcome family members. But that is a very minor criticism of what is a terrific ensemble piece.
I think this film is one of the finest of the year and may well come to be seen as a classic. It can certainly sit comfortably with any of the great films of Japans golden era.
A simple plot précis doesn't do justice to what this film is about. It shines a light into those repressed areas of resentment, sentimentality, nostalgia, guilt and desire that are so often hidden behind a facade of politeness. Koreeda is too subtle a director to have any big blow ups or surprises - he reveals his characters in a gentle manner as detail is laid upon detail. When the ending comes it is not a surprise, but it is still profoundly moving and thought provoking. This is a film that will stay with you long after you leave the cinema.
A lot has been made about the films debt to Ozu. I think this is very overstated - although there are one or two stylistic nods to Ozu at the beginning, Koreeda is a very different type of film maker. Unlike Ozu he uses tiny surreal moments of beauty to contrast with the realism of the rest of the film. His use of editing and camera work is far less formal and rigorous - instead he allows the camera to follow the characters, revealing the layers of the home. And most importantly, while Ozu emphasised the death of the traditional Japanese family and considered it with sad resignation, Koreeda sees families as all alike, stuck in a series of inescapable cycles. In many respects this film reminded me more of some of Naruse's classic films than Ozu.
The cast is uniformly excellent, with Kiki Kirin utterly wonderful as the grandmother. The only very small quibble I have with the casting is that Koreeda succumbed somewhat to casting some characters who are a little too elegant and good looking for the 'normal' people they portray. Hiroshi Abe and Yui Natsukata are maybe a little too good looking to be convincing as the less than 100% welcome family members. But that is a very minor criticism of what is a terrific ensemble piece.
I think this film is one of the finest of the year and may well come to be seen as a classic. It can certainly sit comfortably with any of the great films of Japans golden era.
This film by writer/director Koreeda is a triumph of simplicity. Telling the story of a family who meet annually to mark the death of oldest son Junpei at the parent's house, you're struck by how well this flows. The acting is uniformly very good and the story never lags. The best thing I found about this film is how it could have been done without a script, if the actors were given this scenario. There is bitterness, pettiness and even selfishness here, all earmarks of the subject matter. I found the stylistic similarities to Ozu films to be very touching and not a bit off putting. When I watched this film in a theater in New York, people applauded at the end. This is about as real life as it gets. Its a universal theme, not a Japanese one. My hat is off to the writer/director, its a fine film.
- crossbow0106
- Sep 4, 2009
- Permalink
Koreeda's Aruite Mo Aruite Mo is a consideration of family that is part homage, part vivisection. The comparisons to Ozu that have been made are fitting, the film a return to the Golden Age of Japanese film-making when a distinctly Japanese setting was employed to convey universal themes. The domestic setting, limited time-frame, and even knee-high camera placement all deliberately connote Ozu, but not so much to bow before him, as to re-invent him, to update or even evolve the form. Koreeda seems to have set out less to pay his respects to Ozu, as to surpass him.
Ryota brings his new wife and stepson home to to meet his family on the anniversary of his older brother Junpei's passing. The cycle of pettiness, accusation, pouting and recrimination soon kicks in, familiar theatre of family that will have people recalling Thanksgiving get-togethers, Hogmanany parties, Christmas fall-outs... The joy is in the details of Koreeda's observations, and the forceful animation of them by the cast. From the opening conversation between mother and daughter, playful banter on lessons never learned, wisdom refused, the tone of interdependence with tense undercurrents is set.
YOU as Chinami is more straightforward than her mis-maternal role in Nobody Knows, angling to move in with her parents by talking to her mother as a type, rather than as a person. Kirin Kiki is best known these days here in Japan for her comic outing in the Fuji film commercials. She excels there and here, sweet and doddering at one point, and yet scary, almost vicious at others, as when she reveals the depth of her loathing for Yoshio, the boy-now-man whom her son Junpei died saving from drowning. Her cool gaze upon her grandchildren is evidence of Koreeda's consummate ease in avoiding sentimentality. Hiroshi Abe holds up his end more than competently as the brooding Ryota. Recently 're-structured', he finds his conflicting roles as failed breadwinner, failed heir, struggling stepfather and less-favoured son all brought to salience in this one event. He is too proud to admit his jobless status, but not man enough to help his wife carry the bags. He reacts just as his father reacts to the shock of retirement, or his mother reacts to facing life's disappointments - by lashing out. He is a grown man in gaudy cheap pajamas bought by his mum. He competes with not one ghost, but two - his brother, and his wife's first husband. Who can shine in comparison with martyrs?
Families can be joyous and awful, and Koreeda captures that to a tee. The film seems to go on a beat too long, past a line on the bus that seems the natural ending, but then the final narration (reminiscent of Twilight Samurai) and graveside scene pull it all together poignantly. Granddad thinks they will be back at New Year - they won't. Chinami thinks her mother wants them to move in - she doesn't. Yoshio thinks he is welcome every year - he isn't. Families are destined to misunderstand each other. And yet the honouring of Junpei, the father cracking water-melons with his children, Granddad reaching out to his step-grandson - the succour of family is also portrayed here.
No one does bitter-sweet and elegiac quite like Koreeda, and in Aruite Mo Aruite Mo he achieves the quintessential mix that he was arguably striving for in After Life and Maboroshi. This is a film both comforting and challenging, that may just turn out to be Koreeda's masterpiece.
Ryota brings his new wife and stepson home to to meet his family on the anniversary of his older brother Junpei's passing. The cycle of pettiness, accusation, pouting and recrimination soon kicks in, familiar theatre of family that will have people recalling Thanksgiving get-togethers, Hogmanany parties, Christmas fall-outs... The joy is in the details of Koreeda's observations, and the forceful animation of them by the cast. From the opening conversation between mother and daughter, playful banter on lessons never learned, wisdom refused, the tone of interdependence with tense undercurrents is set.
YOU as Chinami is more straightforward than her mis-maternal role in Nobody Knows, angling to move in with her parents by talking to her mother as a type, rather than as a person. Kirin Kiki is best known these days here in Japan for her comic outing in the Fuji film commercials. She excels there and here, sweet and doddering at one point, and yet scary, almost vicious at others, as when she reveals the depth of her loathing for Yoshio, the boy-now-man whom her son Junpei died saving from drowning. Her cool gaze upon her grandchildren is evidence of Koreeda's consummate ease in avoiding sentimentality. Hiroshi Abe holds up his end more than competently as the brooding Ryota. Recently 're-structured', he finds his conflicting roles as failed breadwinner, failed heir, struggling stepfather and less-favoured son all brought to salience in this one event. He is too proud to admit his jobless status, but not man enough to help his wife carry the bags. He reacts just as his father reacts to the shock of retirement, or his mother reacts to facing life's disappointments - by lashing out. He is a grown man in gaudy cheap pajamas bought by his mum. He competes with not one ghost, but two - his brother, and his wife's first husband. Who can shine in comparison with martyrs?
Families can be joyous and awful, and Koreeda captures that to a tee. The film seems to go on a beat too long, past a line on the bus that seems the natural ending, but then the final narration (reminiscent of Twilight Samurai) and graveside scene pull it all together poignantly. Granddad thinks they will be back at New Year - they won't. Chinami thinks her mother wants them to move in - she doesn't. Yoshio thinks he is welcome every year - he isn't. Families are destined to misunderstand each other. And yet the honouring of Junpei, the father cracking water-melons with his children, Granddad reaching out to his step-grandson - the succour of family is also portrayed here.
No one does bitter-sweet and elegiac quite like Koreeda, and in Aruite Mo Aruite Mo he achieves the quintessential mix that he was arguably striving for in After Life and Maboroshi. This is a film both comforting and challenging, that may just turn out to be Koreeda's masterpiece.
- LunarPoise
- May 30, 2010
- Permalink
I very much enjoyed Nobody Knows (Dare Mo Shiranai) and After Life (Wonderful Life) immensely and found another good and engaging movie with Still Walking. Kore Eda seems to be in a small group of directors who use minimal music and other traditional movie elements in order to convey the story to the viewer. Just as talking in a low voice will elicit the heightened command of a listener, so too does Kore Eda use subtle dialogue and action to focus the viewers attention to what's going on.
I can totally relate to the family in Still Walking because they come across as anyone's family. Literally. I felt as though I could have been watching my own family and not some Japanese family to whom I could not relate. All the elements are there from the big-city adult children coming to visit their small-town parents with their children en tow. The interplay between the fast pace of urban life and slow pace of rural life meet somewhere in the middle. Throughout, I felt as I usually do in a Kore Eda movie: a silent and invisible observer.
The premise of the movie is that the family gathers together once a year on the anniversary of the death of the eldest son who we learn had drowned saving the life of another person who himself was attempting to commit suicide by drowning in the sea. As you may know, in Japanese society, if you save the life of someone who wishes to commit suicide, you effectively are responsible for their life going forward. In this case, the person doing the saving, the eldest son, had died in the process. So we see the person who he saved return year after year to be reminded in an indebted but somewhat cruel manner that he is alive and that he will be, for the rest of the parent's of deceased lives, be required to suffer the (cultural) humility of "being alive" while their son is dead.
We also see the typical social dilemma of what to do as ones aging parents and additional interplay between the surviving son and his new, but widowed, wife and her child. We've seen the transaction a million times in other movies: mother in law has her comments and opinions, wife complains to the husband about her and her son's treatment, son has to either stand up to the parents or find some middle ground.
All in all, it's well played out and I was very pleased by this film. It's an amalgam of growth, change, sacrifice, forgiveness, and the road we all have to travel as we get older or if we have children ourselves. Oddly though, the film's title doesn't make sense until near the end of the movie.
I can totally relate to the family in Still Walking because they come across as anyone's family. Literally. I felt as though I could have been watching my own family and not some Japanese family to whom I could not relate. All the elements are there from the big-city adult children coming to visit their small-town parents with their children en tow. The interplay between the fast pace of urban life and slow pace of rural life meet somewhere in the middle. Throughout, I felt as I usually do in a Kore Eda movie: a silent and invisible observer.
The premise of the movie is that the family gathers together once a year on the anniversary of the death of the eldest son who we learn had drowned saving the life of another person who himself was attempting to commit suicide by drowning in the sea. As you may know, in Japanese society, if you save the life of someone who wishes to commit suicide, you effectively are responsible for their life going forward. In this case, the person doing the saving, the eldest son, had died in the process. So we see the person who he saved return year after year to be reminded in an indebted but somewhat cruel manner that he is alive and that he will be, for the rest of the parent's of deceased lives, be required to suffer the (cultural) humility of "being alive" while their son is dead.
We also see the typical social dilemma of what to do as ones aging parents and additional interplay between the surviving son and his new, but widowed, wife and her child. We've seen the transaction a million times in other movies: mother in law has her comments and opinions, wife complains to the husband about her and her son's treatment, son has to either stand up to the parents or find some middle ground.
All in all, it's well played out and I was very pleased by this film. It's an amalgam of growth, change, sacrifice, forgiveness, and the road we all have to travel as we get older or if we have children ourselves. Oddly though, the film's title doesn't make sense until near the end of the movie.
- jamesmartin1995
- Aug 10, 2011
- Permalink
At the risk of stating the obvious this is a very "japanese" movie, and those who have seen a few will know what I mean. Another reviewer has, with some justification, decried the notion that because a movie is Japanese it seems to automatically attain some sort of semi-mythical status that the same movie made in (say) America would not. Certainly there is a genre of Japanese movies that fall into the "movies where nothing happen" category, and as with many forms of art, sometimes we mistake emptiness and simplicity with great meaning. Sometimes it's hard to tell where greatness actually exists and where we make it up for ourselves, although I suppose since the final result is the same it is a bit of a moot point.
This movie borrows heavily from "Tokyo Story", another glacially paced movie of the inter-generational genre, but whereas the thrust of that movie was the younger generation's indifference and lack of time for the older generation this one is more about the simmering conflicts related to the death of a son, barely concealed resentments related to career choices, the failure to meet fatherly expectations, a mother's long held grudges, etc. As a family meets to commemorate the death of a son, we see a fine web of cracks start to radiate, all bubbling away nicely within the perfectly regimented framework of Japanese politeness and etiquette. The cracks are delicate but deep as the characters tip-toe around the many issues that interconnect 3 generations. Lurking below the surface of civility we see unpleasant aspects of most of the characters but in true Japanese style there are no raised voices, no shouting matches, no slammed doors, no accusations, no resolutions, no explosions, no car chases, no nudity, no violence - just swirling undercurrents. Some people will like this, others will not, and that is fine.
I enjoyed this movie, but it was not a world shattering event. I thought some opportunities for development were missed and I was particularly annoyed when the movie did not finish immediately after the narration near the end. This could have been a totally killer statement, at last, a statement of truth and brutal cruelty to contrast cataclysmically with the hour of banal politeness and withholding of feelings that preceded it. This would have given the whole movie some meaning and bite, but no, they had to spoil it by reverting to the pretense of everyone playing happy families.
In summary a good movie that those used to the "japanese" pace will enjoy, but probably not one that will change your life.
This movie borrows heavily from "Tokyo Story", another glacially paced movie of the inter-generational genre, but whereas the thrust of that movie was the younger generation's indifference and lack of time for the older generation this one is more about the simmering conflicts related to the death of a son, barely concealed resentments related to career choices, the failure to meet fatherly expectations, a mother's long held grudges, etc. As a family meets to commemorate the death of a son, we see a fine web of cracks start to radiate, all bubbling away nicely within the perfectly regimented framework of Japanese politeness and etiquette. The cracks are delicate but deep as the characters tip-toe around the many issues that interconnect 3 generations. Lurking below the surface of civility we see unpleasant aspects of most of the characters but in true Japanese style there are no raised voices, no shouting matches, no slammed doors, no accusations, no resolutions, no explosions, no car chases, no nudity, no violence - just swirling undercurrents. Some people will like this, others will not, and that is fine.
I enjoyed this movie, but it was not a world shattering event. I thought some opportunities for development were missed and I was particularly annoyed when the movie did not finish immediately after the narration near the end. This could have been a totally killer statement, at last, a statement of truth and brutal cruelty to contrast cataclysmically with the hour of banal politeness and withholding of feelings that preceded it. This would have given the whole movie some meaning and bite, but no, they had to spoil it by reverting to the pretense of everyone playing happy families.
In summary a good movie that those used to the "japanese" pace will enjoy, but probably not one that will change your life.
- p-seed-889-188469
- Aug 7, 2014
- Permalink
"Still Walking" aka "Aruitemo Aruitemo" Yet another superb delivery from Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Koreeda who gave us "Nobody Knows" in 2004. It's like we're eavesdropping on a private family reunion event. Central to the story is from the viewpoint of the second son, Ryota at age 40, going home to his parents' house via public transport with his new wife, a widow, and her 10 year old son from previous marriage. Yes, he doesn't own a car like his sister and brother in law. He's actually wary about hiding the fact that he doesn't have a substantial job and asks his wife not to breathe a word at the family occasion. His parents will be disappointed, especially his father who has counted on the second son to take on the family medical clinic business and be a doctor rather than any other trade - since the eldest died 15 years ago. Ryota has 'imprisoned' himself by these expectations which he is unable to, and frankly does not want to, fulfill. Underneath the pleasant bantering with his mother, we can tell he is struggling to find himself, make peace with himself and go on with his life.
Writer-director-editor Koreeda's passion provided us a close look (ever so casually, unhurried at its own pace so we get to be familiarized with each member of the family) on how a Japanese family might function on such a reunion gathering. We are put at ease watching mother and daughter preparing food in the kitchen, the whole family huddled around the meal table, the spontaneous exchanges. By and by, subtle clues are displayed and we may see the other side to each person's personality and hidden desires. Then there are pause moments to relish some family coziness or mother-son cordial exchanges. The storyline is far from 'flat' at its leisurely pace: "familiarity breeds contempt" or "absence makes the heart grows fonder" - either could be true. As the evening goes on, more aspects surface - be it mother, father, son, daughter in law, or grandson - we share their sentiments, satisfied or empathized.
"Still Walking" is a rich film. We are fortunate to experience it with so many levels rendered to us. I appreciate the reverence paid to the traditional family ritual of honoring the dead. Yes, a chance for a family outing, seeing Ryota and his 'new' family - wife and stepson - together is encouraging. The 'yellow butterflies' folklore is heartening.
The film also brings to mind quotes from Louise L. Hay's book, "Heart Thoughts - A Treasury of Inner Wisdom" on forgiveness (page 90): "We do not have to know how to forgive. All we have to do is be willing to forgive. The Universe will take care of the how." And on happiness (page 94): "Happiness is feeling good about yourself."
The theme music by Gonchichi is just right for the mood and state of inner peace - its guitar playing chords and melodic strains is quietly serene. What a soothing melody, giving the film a resigned, calming, happy with himself again leisurely tempo - simply apt to the story of "Still Walking." Visit the official site 'www.aruitemo.com' and you can listen to the music and check out 'Director's Statement' with Koreeda talking about his film.
Writer-director-editor Koreeda's passion provided us a close look (ever so casually, unhurried at its own pace so we get to be familiarized with each member of the family) on how a Japanese family might function on such a reunion gathering. We are put at ease watching mother and daughter preparing food in the kitchen, the whole family huddled around the meal table, the spontaneous exchanges. By and by, subtle clues are displayed and we may see the other side to each person's personality and hidden desires. Then there are pause moments to relish some family coziness or mother-son cordial exchanges. The storyline is far from 'flat' at its leisurely pace: "familiarity breeds contempt" or "absence makes the heart grows fonder" - either could be true. As the evening goes on, more aspects surface - be it mother, father, son, daughter in law, or grandson - we share their sentiments, satisfied or empathized.
"Still Walking" is a rich film. We are fortunate to experience it with so many levels rendered to us. I appreciate the reverence paid to the traditional family ritual of honoring the dead. Yes, a chance for a family outing, seeing Ryota and his 'new' family - wife and stepson - together is encouraging. The 'yellow butterflies' folklore is heartening.
The film also brings to mind quotes from Louise L. Hay's book, "Heart Thoughts - A Treasury of Inner Wisdom" on forgiveness (page 90): "We do not have to know how to forgive. All we have to do is be willing to forgive. The Universe will take care of the how." And on happiness (page 94): "Happiness is feeling good about yourself."
The theme music by Gonchichi is just right for the mood and state of inner peace - its guitar playing chords and melodic strains is quietly serene. What a soothing melody, giving the film a resigned, calming, happy with himself again leisurely tempo - simply apt to the story of "Still Walking." Visit the official site 'www.aruitemo.com' and you can listen to the music and check out 'Director's Statement' with Koreeda talking about his film.
Still Walking is an outstanding movie. It is touching and realistic.. The dialogues were out of the world ! Every character has its own point of view that you understand and you sympathize with by the incredible cast they portray them. The direction is out of the world. Hirokazu directed the fantastic dialogues between the characters without moving the camera a lot that makes you in the scene with the characters. IN short this movie is a masterpiece that you should definitely watch.
- ahmadm-38688
- Dec 25, 2021
- Permalink
"Few other nations can capture the beauty of family drama with such subtlety and grace as the Japanese can." (as Japan can, you mean? "the Japanese" is not a "nation") "While watching the movie, I found it hard not to be immersed by the beauty of Japanese suburbia." (immersed _in_, surely?).
Poor grammar aside, statements such as these are notable for their exoticism of Japan, likely based on ignorance of what life in Japan is actually like. As a non-Japanese living in Japan, I am unfortunately all too familiar with approaches such as these. Japan is mystical. Japan is futuristic. Japan is strange. Japan is etc. If only all the reviewers here (notably non- Japanese, notably positive reviewers) would actually come and live and/or work in Japan, they could experience this supposed "beauty of family drama" and "beauty of Japanese suburbia" themselves. Then, they might see this movie for what it is: a Japanese version of a Hollywood movie: appealing to the masses, simply confirming family values (Dad might be grumpy, but he loves you after all!, nobody's perfect, etc.) and most definitely nothing special or new. A bad movie? No. But do you really believe, as another reviewer here wrote, "Only Japanese movies seems to be able to go so deeply into subtleties of family affairs as this one."? (again with the poor grammar - I think they're trying to say, "Only Japanese movies such as this one seem to be able to go so deeply into the subtleties of family affairs.")
This is a mediocre movie with ratings/reviews inflated by reviewers who exoticise Japan. If this movie was set in the United States with Hollywood actors, it would be recognized for what it is: a cheesy, average film. Discrimination, whether positive or negative, is still discrimination. Yet another reviewer here wrote of the Japanese, "They're not like American people. They're not ordinary people." Uh, they are ordinary humans like the rest of us and this movie proves it.
Poor grammar aside, statements such as these are notable for their exoticism of Japan, likely based on ignorance of what life in Japan is actually like. As a non-Japanese living in Japan, I am unfortunately all too familiar with approaches such as these. Japan is mystical. Japan is futuristic. Japan is strange. Japan is etc. If only all the reviewers here (notably non- Japanese, notably positive reviewers) would actually come and live and/or work in Japan, they could experience this supposed "beauty of family drama" and "beauty of Japanese suburbia" themselves. Then, they might see this movie for what it is: a Japanese version of a Hollywood movie: appealing to the masses, simply confirming family values (Dad might be grumpy, but he loves you after all!, nobody's perfect, etc.) and most definitely nothing special or new. A bad movie? No. But do you really believe, as another reviewer here wrote, "Only Japanese movies seems to be able to go so deeply into subtleties of family affairs as this one."? (again with the poor grammar - I think they're trying to say, "Only Japanese movies such as this one seem to be able to go so deeply into the subtleties of family affairs.")
This is a mediocre movie with ratings/reviews inflated by reviewers who exoticise Japan. If this movie was set in the United States with Hollywood actors, it would be recognized for what it is: a cheesy, average film. Discrimination, whether positive or negative, is still discrimination. Yet another reviewer here wrote of the Japanese, "They're not like American people. They're not ordinary people." Uh, they are ordinary humans like the rest of us and this movie proves it.
- bonsai-superstar
- Feb 22, 2012
- Permalink
If the title music is anything to go by this will be a gentle sentimental sad little film.
Grandma is wrapping sea urchin in cucumber. The sushi preparations made me hungry for some (corn tempura anybody?) It bimbles along, amiable in-house family chat.
By about half way I've got bored by it though, even slightly irritated; the life-in-a-day ordinary everydayness has become prosaic and dramatically underdone: too much mundane chat of the "Not a lot on telly these days" variety is being slopped into that sushi.
And that sugary guitar soundtrack motif keeps smoothing in swashes of sentimental reverie; nice-ifying and prettifying up scenes as though they were meant to be meaning something sweetly sad.
I appreciate Koreeda wanting the acting to understate feelings so as to avoid melodramatic clichés; but he should be doing something more actively engaging with the screenplay. In the absence of enacted – or dramatically expressed – emotion just sticking a sad guitar in there now and again is too easy.
Koreeda – on the DVD extra – actually seems like quite a nice person; sweetly souled, gently dispositioned; smiles more than he says, but a sad touch to his looks sometimes. This film a kind of personal testament to his mother who'd died 2 years previously. And although i usually like films that feel intimate, are right up close and personal – this seemed almost like a vanity project; too narrowly self-absorbed, too self-indulgently fussy.
In the end i was glad to get away from the whole family set-up. There are times when the ordinary everyday requires a bit of a kick up the ..... This was one of them.
Grandma is wrapping sea urchin in cucumber. The sushi preparations made me hungry for some (corn tempura anybody?) It bimbles along, amiable in-house family chat.
By about half way I've got bored by it though, even slightly irritated; the life-in-a-day ordinary everydayness has become prosaic and dramatically underdone: too much mundane chat of the "Not a lot on telly these days" variety is being slopped into that sushi.
And that sugary guitar soundtrack motif keeps smoothing in swashes of sentimental reverie; nice-ifying and prettifying up scenes as though they were meant to be meaning something sweetly sad.
I appreciate Koreeda wanting the acting to understate feelings so as to avoid melodramatic clichés; but he should be doing something more actively engaging with the screenplay. In the absence of enacted – or dramatically expressed – emotion just sticking a sad guitar in there now and again is too easy.
Koreeda – on the DVD extra – actually seems like quite a nice person; sweetly souled, gently dispositioned; smiles more than he says, but a sad touch to his looks sometimes. This film a kind of personal testament to his mother who'd died 2 years previously. And although i usually like films that feel intimate, are right up close and personal – this seemed almost like a vanity project; too narrowly self-absorbed, too self-indulgently fussy.
In the end i was glad to get away from the whole family set-up. There are times when the ordinary everyday requires a bit of a kick up the ..... This was one of them.
- thecatcanwait
- Dec 11, 2011
- Permalink
Oh, my heart. This is a quietly devastating film about family dysfunction. The elderly parents in the story are deeply sympathetic and yet also deeply flawed, caring more for their dead son than their living son or daughter, both of whom bring their families over for a mini-reunion of sorts. We gradually see the cracks in the various relationships, and that events of the distant past are still top of mind for all of them, leading to a family gathering that's civil but not joyous, all of which I could relate to. Kore-eda tells this poignant story masterfully, with restraint and simplicity, and the cast is strong from top to bottom (Kirin Kiki as the mom, and Hiroshi Abe as the son in particular).
Part of what makes the movie so good is that the characters feel so authentic, and nothing is black and white. The mother is sweet and hospitable but has a lot of negative things to say, displaying some of the rougher points of her character when she talks about putting the guy her son saved through the annual torture of visiting them, or when she says she doesn't want to be cramped by her daughter or her noisy grandkids living with her. The father, meanwhile, is gruff and emotionally distant to say the least. And yet, they also have their own stories - she sings along fondly to a song playing that reminds her of a time when life was still so full of hope, but she tells her husband she first heard it when she discovered his past infidelity, dropping quite a bomb on him when he's in the tub. The couple are still together but they bicker, and we see various uncaring behavior such as him not recognizing her housework as ever having "worked" (ha!), not helping her across the street, or her only finding out he goes off to karaoke by reading Christmas cards sent to him.
Maybe the film is just showing that this is what was "normal" for families in that generation (the word "normal" is used a few times), but also what the consequences of that are. The parents both express disappointment in so many ways, rather than embracing the people their kids turned out to be (and in turn, their spouses and kids as well). It's so sad, and so cautionary. Like the song says, the love you take is equal to the love you make - instead of the reunion making the kids want to come more often, it has the opposite effect. Sometimes someone has to take the first step or make an effort, beyond saying it will happen "one of these days," as the son puts it. Maybe that's how many grown-up kids and families are, I don't know. I felt my heart in Kore-eda's hands throughout the whole film, but rather than squeezing it mercilessly he just made it ache, and in the gentlest way possible, part of his talent.
Part of what makes the movie so good is that the characters feel so authentic, and nothing is black and white. The mother is sweet and hospitable but has a lot of negative things to say, displaying some of the rougher points of her character when she talks about putting the guy her son saved through the annual torture of visiting them, or when she says she doesn't want to be cramped by her daughter or her noisy grandkids living with her. The father, meanwhile, is gruff and emotionally distant to say the least. And yet, they also have their own stories - she sings along fondly to a song playing that reminds her of a time when life was still so full of hope, but she tells her husband she first heard it when she discovered his past infidelity, dropping quite a bomb on him when he's in the tub. The couple are still together but they bicker, and we see various uncaring behavior such as him not recognizing her housework as ever having "worked" (ha!), not helping her across the street, or her only finding out he goes off to karaoke by reading Christmas cards sent to him.
Maybe the film is just showing that this is what was "normal" for families in that generation (the word "normal" is used a few times), but also what the consequences of that are. The parents both express disappointment in so many ways, rather than embracing the people their kids turned out to be (and in turn, their spouses and kids as well). It's so sad, and so cautionary. Like the song says, the love you take is equal to the love you make - instead of the reunion making the kids want to come more often, it has the opposite effect. Sometimes someone has to take the first step or make an effort, beyond saying it will happen "one of these days," as the son puts it. Maybe that's how many grown-up kids and families are, I don't know. I felt my heart in Kore-eda's hands throughout the whole film, but rather than squeezing it mercilessly he just made it ache, and in the gentlest way possible, part of his talent.
- gbill-74877
- Mar 17, 2021
- Permalink
Forty-something art restorer Yokoyama Ryota (Abe Hiroshi) reluctantly returns to his parents' home with his new wife Yukari (Natsukawa Yui) for a rare reunion. The family is holding a memorial for the eldest son who passed away 15 years ago, and Ryota has not been looking forward to the occasion. To his father (Harada Yoshio), Ryota can never compare to his late brother, and silent resentment has accumulated between father and son over the years. Likewise, Ryota's mother (Kiki Kirin) carries years of bottled frustrations and disappointments that slip out in casual, cutting remarks. Only sister Chinami (You) seems to somehow keep herself above the family drama. As the day wears on, the family runs through the simple gestures and complex emotions that keep them together and push them apart.
- andrenalin_04
- Feb 26, 2009
- Permalink
Still Walking gives us a look into the lives of one ordinary Japanese family. The story takes place mostly in one day. It is not an ordinary day exactly, but one in which the family gathers together in remembrance. Gradually and naturally the backstory unfolds.
The way that the story is told is really what is so wonderful about it. I cannot think of any other film off the top of my head that tells this kind of a story so well. It seems so natural and the filmmakers make it look easy, but it's not.
The way the family interacts, the dialog, each character's little idiosyncrasies, it's all done perfectly and flawlessly. There a is a point near the beginning of the film where the matriarch tells a story of an interaction with her neighbors years earlier. The way the story is told and the other characters' reaction feel so real and lifelike.
Everything about the film feels like an ordinary family. Even though this family is in Japan, a country I've never visited, I felt connected to them while watching this. Everything was so relatable to the point that this could have been a real day in the life of a real family shot using hidden cameras.
The way the mother manipulated the daughter-in-law and dishes out underhanded compliments, the way they all tell boring stories that they've all heard a hundred times, the way the son is hesitant to leave his wife alone with his mother out of fear that she'll accidentally give away his little white lies that no one really even cares about but him...all of it feels just like real life, made even better by the wonderful acting from even the children.
And of course the camerawork is great. Everything is done extremely well here. I won't give away too much of the ending, which on its surface could be considered mundane, except to say that it is bittersweet and perfect.
The way that the story is told is really what is so wonderful about it. I cannot think of any other film off the top of my head that tells this kind of a story so well. It seems so natural and the filmmakers make it look easy, but it's not.
The way the family interacts, the dialog, each character's little idiosyncrasies, it's all done perfectly and flawlessly. There a is a point near the beginning of the film where the matriarch tells a story of an interaction with her neighbors years earlier. The way the story is told and the other characters' reaction feel so real and lifelike.
Everything about the film feels like an ordinary family. Even though this family is in Japan, a country I've never visited, I felt connected to them while watching this. Everything was so relatable to the point that this could have been a real day in the life of a real family shot using hidden cameras.
The way the mother manipulated the daughter-in-law and dishes out underhanded compliments, the way they all tell boring stories that they've all heard a hundred times, the way the son is hesitant to leave his wife alone with his mother out of fear that she'll accidentally give away his little white lies that no one really even cares about but him...all of it feels just like real life, made even better by the wonderful acting from even the children.
And of course the camerawork is great. Everything is done extremely well here. I won't give away too much of the ending, which on its surface could be considered mundane, except to say that it is bittersweet and perfect.
Maybe we all are expecting a new Osu , Misoguchi or Kurosawa , so we are always eager to follow the production of contemporary Japanese directors . Koreeda is a possible hope for the Japanese great Cinema History, his picture "Nobody nows" was already ahead of the flock. And now this "Still walking" is a very good surprise, an invaluable work. The treatment of an average modern Japanese family is touching, to say the less. The film poses the concept that although Japan is modern and fully electronic driven, with 4G networks and gadgets , there is still a hardcore of tradition, the old people have a somewhat cold environment in everyday life and some bad feelings are disguised. And the pace keeps the same for the new generation ,at least down Yokohama. I've just seen the title but I will take a couple of weeks to fully understand it.
- lgcnascimento
- Oct 28, 2009
- Permalink
After reading the plot, I expected 'Still Walking' to be one of those melodramatic family reunion films where the members reunite one day and resolve all their differences. Well in reality, It's much more subtle than that and actually brings out why, in real-life, reconciliation is much harder than we may expect or like it to be, even among family members. Some disagreements that you may have have with your mom or dad may be such that you will have to go against your principles/values if you want to make peace with them. These are the kinds of issues that are portrayed in this film, with beauty and emotional intensity. But there is a message of reconciliation as well because although the characters have their differences, they try their best to get through the occasion without hurting each other's feelings and at least trying to pretend as if their differences do not matter when they're together. I am starting to really like Hirokazu Koreeda's works. If you like watching films that have a strong social,family-based narrative, you should really check out Koreeda's films. In a nutshell - Is it a deeply moving film? yes. Is it a realistic portrayal of common family issues? Yes. But is it one of those "and they happily lived together ever after" films? No.
"Still Walking" is a remarkably sober film that paints the portrait of an ordinary Japanese family through daily conversations and bittersweet memories. The camerawork is almost absent, with significantly long cuts that almost make you feel like you are as well sitting down around the table while observing your newly acquired family members. Despite the lack of action and the absence of a plot, the fast-paced dialogues and natural performances are enough to keep you entertained for the whole two hours. I was hoping for some final resolution or life-changing statement, but as an ordinary person would probably do in such a situation, real confrontation remains avoided until the end.
- x_manicure_x
- Aug 13, 2021
- Permalink
Well, what can I say except how faultless and graceful it was? Hirokazu always has his way of making me cry in the smallest and quietest of things. I don't even have the same underlying tragedy with my family but his cinema makes it all familiar for you. Maybe it's not even about having a death in your family, I think it's about the general experience of having those special and complicated relationships with the people you live with. The ones that make up your world and dreams. I'm just grateful right now to have been 'therapized' by this because my heart calmed the moment I heard its music. I don't know about the others but I always feel like I'm a much better and appreciative person after journeying with Hirokazu.
- GoodBailey11
- Jun 20, 2020
- Permalink
A respected art house audience film that likewise connects with critics. This Ozu-influenced drama is heavy on Japanese culture, particularly family values. Those unfamiliar with this culture may have difficulty understanding character thinking and motivation.
For myself, I tend to appreciate the authentic look to the drama, without feeling or caring much about what happens. The often static camera during family meals (the time spent eating seems to be filmed in real time) didn't help much in providing movement to the enactment.
Actually, I prefer the French film, "A Sunday in the Country," which has a similar feel and is much more involving. That's purely my reaction, and will concede the art house where it's playing is the best place for it and where it needs to be.
For myself, I tend to appreciate the authentic look to the drama, without feeling or caring much about what happens. The often static camera during family meals (the time spent eating seems to be filmed in real time) didn't help much in providing movement to the enactment.
Actually, I prefer the French film, "A Sunday in the Country," which has a similar feel and is much more involving. That's purely my reaction, and will concede the art house where it's playing is the best place for it and where it needs to be.
Not bittersweet, but a tad sweeter, and lovely. Being a story about an extended Japanese family at an annual gathering to the home of the now grandparents. Emotionally modulated--the anger of a father's disappointment in his son's not living up to to his expectations, and the son's detachment from an overbearing and imperious father, overshadowed by the death of the father's revered other son, and the constant undertone of bickering between mater and pater--are not expressed in outbursts and loud confrontations. The burns are slow, the barbs are terse, as they go about the business of preparing meals and while sitting at the family tatami table and during the steep walks from the hilltop house to the beach, or in individual reflection while taking the traditional bath. The sweetness is in the relationship between the son and his wife and the growing connection with his pre-teen stepson, and with his sister and other extended family members; and in the ties that endure, to come together as a family.
- elliott-43
- Dec 7, 2019
- Permalink
Some people consider this a masterpiece and the acting surely is on that level. This is about the dysfunctional Japanese family, who gather once a year to remember a family member's death. By small means, big and and not so big conflicts come to surface.
But there is a problem here. Although the acting is according to today, with moves, gestures and talking being documentary, but with all the drama intact, you still find it difficult to understand all of this. You don't have the codes to Japanese values, which limits your viewer position.
You simply miss much of the drama from not being Japanese.
But there is a problem here. Although the acting is according to today, with moves, gestures and talking being documentary, but with all the drama intact, you still find it difficult to understand all of this. You don't have the codes to Japanese values, which limits your viewer position.
You simply miss much of the drama from not being Japanese.
I thought the actors, none of whom I had ever seen before, were all quite good. I particularly liked the father who played as Kyohei--he was unpredictable and sometimes he looks mad sometimes he looks smiling, but you could see that he was taking everything in the scene. I think he's slightly aggressive.
- endlesprince-06213
- May 15, 2018
- Permalink