Air Doll

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.

In short: A deep, thought-provoking, beautifully filmed, and well acted piece of Japanese cinema. Bae Doona is magnificent as an inflatable doll that develops a soul and falls in love. Hirokazu Koreeda wows once again with his deliberate film making, effectively commenting on social problems dealing with urban life. Despite the fact that it is a bit slow and a bit long, Air Doll is definitely one of the better films that I've seen recently.

I was finally able to watch this film (on DVD) and was impressed, more so than I thought I would be. To me, Air Doll includes aspects that make it attractive to both film festivals and commercial audiences. With the quirky and interesting premise of a sex doll that comes to life, Air Doll (which is lightly based on a manga) establishes itself as a film which seeks to appeal to modern audiences, specifically Japanese. This doll, "named" Nozomi (played by Korean actress Bae Doona), sneaks out of her owners house every day to go to work at a local video store. There, she falls in love with her coworker, Junichi (played by Arata), and learns about life--both the good and the bad.

What separates Air Doll from some of Koreeda's previous work is his choice of Mark Lee as cinematographer. He films the city of Tokyo beautifully, with long, gorgeous tracking shots. This is a departure from Koreeda's usual style, of which films like Nobody Knows and Still Walking are good examples (both being pretty un-commercial). I enjoyed the cameo's by some well-established actors, including Odagiri Joe as the doll maker, Susumu Terajima as a police officer, and Kimiko Yo as an aging woman obsessed with looking young, although they were definitely not noteworthy performances. I also enjoyed the music, which moved along with the pace of the film and effectively added emotional weight to select scenes.

Where I thought the film faltered was in length. It was too long, which is not a completely horrible fault in many cases, but towards the end I felt as if Koreeda had already established his point and needed to wrap it up. Length is a characteristic problem in many contemporary Japanese films. I feel as if this works for some (Love Exposure !?), but not for most. Another fault that I'd like to mention was the odd, Jdrama-like breaks in the scene where Nozomi is being repeatedly drained of air, then blown back up by Junichi in bed. The same shot was shown three times from different angles, which I found unnecessary and out of place. But that's just me being picky.

Air Doll attempts to illustrate to the viewer the loneliness that exists in an urban environment such as Tokyo. He does this perfectly with the inclusion of small side stories; a nerdy otaku, a lonely old man, an aging woman obsessed with beauty, a bulimic woman suffering from depression, and other lonely people. These characters only briefly appear on the screen, giving the impression of the fleeting encounters with strangers in a big city urban environment. Bae Doona's character of the doll, Nozomi, is the highlight of the movie. She plays the character perfectly, often condensing many emotions into one and displaying all of the quirkiness of a doll that has recently discovered life. It is interesting and perfect that Koreeda cast a Korean in the roll of the doll, as it further alienates the character from the rest of the cast as well as the audience. It is also interesting to note the fact that Bae Doona was very naked during the film (being a sex doll and all), a feat that not many Japanese actresses would even dare to do. She has been nominated for--and won many--awards for best actress.

--John Kincaid @ jkfilmjapan.wordpress.com/

In the early 70's I used to wander in and out of sex shops in Soho London. One of the high-ticket objects that always caught my eye was the rubber blow-up dolls labelled "sailors help". I always tried to imagine a lonely sailor having sex with this travesty of an imaginary woman. What particularly puzzled me was:- "how is the doll more satisfying than masturbation with the hand?". I concluded that all its contrivance was superfluous, and that those that used the doll, must need to create a highly complex artificial world. Koreeda's movie,

• which I viewed exactly forty years since I last looked at a "sailor's help", features certain technological advances - the skin tones are more life-like and the latex is less rubbery, the hair and make-up is more convincing - apart from these minor alterations its the same old dumb doll.

Koreeda, whose poetic imagination is different to mine, wondered about many magical and profound possibilities, when he encountered his first sex doll. I can only analyze these from a Western point of view. A Chef is portrayed interacting with his doll. Apart from the sexual act, in which we are introduced to the snap in, snap out, washable vagina, we are made privy to his affection and warm intimacy with his inanimate doll. All his emotional needs are fulfilled in his totemization of his latex goddess. What gives the doll life is the "blow job" he regularly gives the doll, in the inflation process. This introduction is well acted and convincing.

Then, the fairy tale begins, as the doll is, in the Ancient Egyptian manner, transformed with "pneuma" into a living being. How is she different? Well for one her breasts change from the usual silicone bag shape {the ubiquitous Hollywood look} to a natural form of great beauty - this "live" doll is a magnificent apparition of womanly grace and archetypal form - she's not big, brash and in your face, but, instead she has a bird-like elegance, that lovers of the nude, will find breathtaking {at least I did}. The fairy tale now progresses into a portrait of what this beautiful woman , who is still a doll, but is also a gorgeous woman, will experience in a world of intense emotional discipline. The Tokyo setting is appealing and the music has a wind up clock, musical box feel, {imagine a twirling ballerina accompanied by the Nutcracker Suite on top of a musical box}. This is very effective and calls ones attention to the mechanical in the doll.The director Koreeda ponders about the realities of urban Tokyo life with its density and its order. The life of the libidinous search for sexual gratification is controlled by the harmless sublimation of sexual energy into the doll {with its washable vagina} reminiscent of the condom, - especially the female condom, the femidom.

The "living doll" has many adventures dressed {in fashionable Tokyo style}, or amazingly in the nude, as the slow, but, beautiful movie lets you see her evolution into a fully-fledged womanhood. Here we come to the genius of this movie, which is the erotocization of "air". It all makes logical sense that the air doll is turned on by air. Her tumescence and detumescence is a pneumatic event , while humans have blood running through their veins, the doll has air. These sexual scenes portraying her sexuality, illustrating the strength of her intake and the weakness of her air loss. It is so resonant of so much that is human, that, it is nothing short of dazzling.

The Japanese samurai tradition {see Paul Schrader's Mishima} is confirmed in the fetish of the belly-button, {solar plexus}, and the seppuku ending, with the doll trying to reach her lovers life, through the vestige of his umbilical cord.

I am not sure whether I have done this lyrical, poetic inspiration justice, but it certainly is a touching paean to human frailty and the "doll" is an awesome vision to behold. She gives a moving performance in a difficult role to pull off convincingly. The director must be congratulated {with his cinematographer} for an intelligent excavation of the difference between feeling and lack of feeling. This movie will appeal to both genders as it navigates uncharted waters in the field of the human psyche. An exhilarating experience that lives on way after the curtain closes.

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.

Hirokazu Koreeda takes a look into the abyss of Japanese society and paints a deeply disturbing but true picture of human beings who replaced their real lives into a state of mere existence. Solitude and emotional repression, ironically enough, in the country with one of the highest population densities and material goods ad infinitum. A study of cultural constraints.

Our protagonist (Du-Na Bae), masterfully chosen, is the newest excretion in the line of goods to blow some of that sexual steam off: an air doll with a washable rubber vagina. Her owner (refreshingly serious comedian Itsuji Itao), a lonesome waiter uses her as a substitute for a girlfriend, bathes, talks and of course - has sex with her. One day she awakes and discovers that she has grown a soul and begins her first tiny steps in a hostile world, without any prejudice or knowledge of the environment surrounding her. First enthralled and joyful to find all those wonders of life, she is soon crushed by the empty bitterness of people. A fallen Amélie, powerless before the unloving societal apparatus.

In Japan, there is a socially acknowledged system which consists of the Tatemae (homogenous, polite, superficial and carefully considered not to break in one's boundaries) and the Honne (one's "real" personality/ intentions). This seemingly schizophrenic social obligation produced monsters in industrialized 21st century Japan and this film shows us some of their victims. Live your lives! Be you! Appreciate the little things! Talk to people!, although slowly paced, the pictures flickering on the screen seem to shout in your face. What may sound ridiculous and hard to understand for American/European audiences, Japanese reality needs exactly those words.

Although I do not agree with some artistic choices on a personal level, I cannot stretch how much I agree with the message of this film. With increasing alienation and mistrust of people even in western societies, I am sure you can pick something up for yourself, look over frontiers and "crazy japs sticking their dicks in plastic wtflulz!!1". Definitely worth your while.