Cherry Blossoms

If you would've told me prior to seeing this that I would fall head-over-heels for a film that's about a frustrated Bavarian Butoh dancer, with a tale of homelessness, loneliness, a pink telephone, cabbage rolls…and recycling all in the mix, I'd have laughed out loud.

In fact, I did laugh throughout the course of this wonderful, delicate film (that has the most selfish progeny since "King Lear"). In the opening scene a wife tells a physician, "My husband doesn't really care much for adventure," and, boy, does he have treat—and a trial—in store for him. But so does the audience.

The film's heart is about grief and how we can never really prepare for it. "I'd like my ashes scattered upon the sea," a spouse says to his partner. Fearfully, she says, "Why do you say that now?" And why indeed since we can never plan our end and its circumstances? It takes a young, marginally sane street performer, to tell us exactly what the Great Mystery is all about.

And the use of stunning images from nature, as well as the contorted gestures of Butoh theater…and the equally contorted emotions from a family unaware of who the others are that this film brims over with so many rewards that it can be enjoyed over and over again.

The family dynamics are almost farcical which keep the weight of the subject matter from spilling over into despair. And while the central character's own despair is the subject of the film, it's thrilling to watch him find his way out of it.

Exceptional performances, shimmering cinematography, a truly great film.

When her husband is diagnosed with a terminal illness, a German woman named Trudi decides it's time the both of them paid a long overdue visit to their adult children - two of whom live in Berlin and one in Japan. The catch is that the husband, Rudi, doesn't even know he's sick and neither do the kids. Thus, Trudi must live with this horrible secret while putting on a brave face for those around her. But then a different, wholly unforeseen tragedy strikes the family and the movie heads off into an entirely new and utterly unanticipated direction from where we thought it was going.

A German movie set largely in Japan, "Cherry Blossoms" is a beautiful and heartbreaking film about living for the moment and of not putting off till tomorrow what you can do today. It's also marvelously perceptive about the dynamics of parent/child relationships, especially when, as is true in this case, the parents are viewed by their self-absorbed offspring more as burdens to be endured than blessings to be cherished. The irony is that Rudi and Trudi have more in common with - and indeed are treated better by - many of the strangers and casual acquaintances they come in contact with than they are by their own children.

But the movie is also an examination of marriage and of how partners can become so entwined with one another as a couple that they lose their identities as individuals, missing out on the dreams and goals they had for their lives when they were still young and unattached. This is certainly the case for Trudi, who has harbored a lifelong desire to take up Japanese dancing, a desire that Rudi, in his selfish indifference, has pretty much squelched in her for the duration of their marriage. Such a realization of lost opportunities can lead to regrets, recriminations and despair at the end of the road, yet in the case of Rudi and Trudi, one learns that lesson a little too late - and the other just in the nick of time.

Elmer Wepper and Hannelore Elsner are magnificent as the aged couple, superbly capturing the deep-seated but often unspoken love that each spouse has for the other. A fine supporting cast, led by Maximilian Bruckner as one of their sons and Aya Irizuki as a young street artist who befriends Rudi in his time of greatest need, adds to the movie's richness. Another crucial element in the emotional force of the movie is the richly elegiac score by Claus Bantzer.

The glory of this exquisitely realized and profoundly moving film is its willingness to grapple with some truly major issues - of life and death, of sorrow and loss, of filial and marital relationships - without getting heavy-handed and preachy about it in the process. Every moment in this film feels real and unforced, yet the movie itself has the minutely worked-out grace and precision of Japanese performance art (which we see quite a bit of throughout the course of the film). In fact, near the end, there is a fantasy dance sequence that is, quite frankly, one of the most utterly spellbinding scenes I've come across in ages.

Masterfully directed by Doris Dorrie, "Cherry Blossoms" is a lyrical and unforgettable work that takes its place among the truly outstanding films of recent times.

“It's merely a movie.” Yeah. Well, whenever did you see one that had every character's play connect; comprehending intuitively their wars waging within. Between the sense of responsibility, of guilt, sweet memories, shame and nagging doubts. Not of one character, but of every single one. And then not because the lines, expressions and glances are simple, the characters sparse, or the dialogues overly explicit. No. Only because every single one is a mirror of your own, if not now than those that'll (hopefully?) be experienced in the future. Their fights aren't theirs alone; they are ours too. All painfully accurate, and so incorrigibly human.

To watch sheer Love gathering momentum before and after they ... nothing less than apotheosis of overwhelming feeling, an epitome of emotion that was so unattainably beautiful; death's but a trifle after this.

I'd rate it one star ... for every time I cried (or could have, ought to and didn't), yet the scale doesn't reach that high.

I will not say 'Cherry Bloosoms' perfectly flawless. The first half of the movie is a bit too plain, beautiful though. It is easy for audience to find traces of 'Tokyo Story' (Ozu's 1953 work) in the film. The filmmaker attempted a large amount of 'pillow shot'. Audience may feel like she was trying to replicate what Ozu did. It may not be a bad idea,especially young generation nowadays has not even spent a minute on watching old films like Ozu's work. But to me, 'Tokyo Story' is too perfect, and the movie I am talking now is not anywhere near it in the case when both of them are critiquing the relationship between parents and grown-up children.

Yet I did experience a sublime journey throughout the course of this beautiful film. What really moved me is the second half of the movie- its delicate description on 'mourning', on how a man copes with the mourning with all kinds of valuable memories of the dead. Beyond doubt the filmmaker did a great work on conveying the feeling of loss. The character'Yu' is impressive enough I still thought of her face that night after watching the movie. She is not the kind of girl with a beautiful face. We the audiences know nearly nothing about the character, but she really hit my heart in a deep way. She is lonely and sad, easily grabs the heart of audiences.Thanks to the soundtrack also. The film is soft, slow, sad, but at the same time it taught me a lesson. To treasure every single person besides me, and to pursue what really matters to me, as can life be ever predicted.

I think it was for me a sublime movie experience. I tells about many things: lack of communication between generations, the passing of life and the necessity to cherish it while it lasts, the cultural differences and similarities between Germany and Japan. It also describes how we often do not know well even those closest to us. In the beginning the old couple seems so boring, one-sided and uninvolving, boy does it change as the film unravels. The film is very well written, directed and acted. Also one of the best, wholest descriptions of the current life in Japan I ever saw on celluloide. I loved the character of the young girl in Japan, her wonderful, delicate dignity in the face of the horrors of her lonely life. The man entered her life by coincidence and changed it for the better, maybe saving her from getting crazy or raped, or even killed.