Air Doll

With each of Kore-eda's new films, he tries new topics and/or narrative approaches. This film reminds me less of his previous work and more of Michel Gondry's short film that's a part of the TOKYO!(2008) compilation (a collection of 3 films with the topic being the city of Tokyo directed by three directors - Michel Gondry, Leos Carax, & Bong Jun-Ho).

Unlike some of his previous films that had connections with "family" and "memories" (AFTERLIFE, DISTANCE, NOBODY KNOWS, MABOROSI, & STILL WALKING), AIR Doll also connects but focuses on Losses - not about loved ones passing away, but the lost of values and feelings that make us human. In a much more surreal narrative compared to his previous realite approaches to story-telling (HANA being the exception as he was trying to dabble with comedy and period-pieces), AIR DOLL's story is dark and fairy-tale like. As usual the cinematography is perfect and appropriate for the story he is telling, and Kore-eda in this case works with Taiwanese DP Lee Ping-Bing to bring some of the most beautiful visuals and colors to each and every scene - the close-ups utilizing soft spot-focus are good enough to be used as Leica advertisements.

While the subject matter to AIR DOLL could have treaded onto "hentai" territory, Kore-eda keeps it in its surreal context and what results is a reflection on how we all are lost in a time where we also have all our material needs satisfied as substitutes to the valuable things in life we no longer have.

It's great to see the enigmatic Arata returning to a Kore-eda film (as always, his characters almost always come across as the alter-ego to the director), and Kore-eda again shows his love of the movies. I had no idea he actually liked THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY.

My favorite of Kore-eda's work still being THE AFTERLIFE, DISTANCE, and NOBODY KNOWS, but AIR DOLL is a bold attempt for Kore-eda, showing he can break the mold and continue on his journey of bringing new ideas to the film medium. Kore-eda and Kiyoshi Kurosawa are no doubt two of Japan's most talented filmmakers today.

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/

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.

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.

The best word to describe the films of Hirokazu Kore-eda is truth. Whether he's delving into the fantastical realm of 'After Life' or crafting a genre piece like 'The Third Murder', Kore-eda's work consistently reveals universal truths about the human condition. He often examines the everyday: how families interact, how people deal with grief; how we navigate the modern world. Contemplative and subtle, his films draw viewers into quiet, yet profound reflections on life, that one would be hard pressed to forget.

Based on the Yoshiie Goda manga of the same name, 'Air Doll' is a fantastical, yet grounded, nuanced drama about a blow-up doll that magically comes to life. As the doll Nozomi explores the world, she experiences life for the first time. Encountering various people, her interactions reveal deep aspects of human loneliness and connection. Nozomi's journey from being an object to developing consciousness serves as a poignant metaphor for the universal struggle for identity and meaning in a seemingly indifferent world.

Nozomi grapples with feelings of emptiness and a desire for a soul, mirroring the human quest for purpose and self-fulfilment. The relationships she forms with those around her- including her owner, who initially sees her as nothing more than an object, and a video store clerk who becomes an unexpected confidante- highlight the fragility of human connections and the profound impact of companionship and understanding.

While a devastating watch, it also contains humour. Kore-eda masterfully combines elements of whimsy and melancholy, underscoring the film's exploration of existential themes. Moreover, it challenges one to ponder the essence of humanity and the complexity of emotions defining our existence. It is a testament to Kore-eda's ability to craft films that resonate on a deeply emotional level, prompting one to reflect on one's own life long after the credits have rolled.

Ping Bin Lee's cinematography is integral to the film's impact. He makes use of dreamy, ethereal lighting, creating a surreal atmosphere mirroring Nozomi's childlike wonder and newfound sentiency. The muted colour palette enhances the film's melancholic yet whimsical feel, while Lee's careful framing and composition serves to highlight the vastness of Tokyo. This often dwarfs Nozomi, symbolizing her journey from object to being. Reflective surfaces, empty spaces and fluid camera movements help immerse viewers in her perspective, emphasizing themes of urban loneliness and self-discovery.

Moreover, Yôhei Taneda's production design creates a stark contrast between the drab environment of Nozomi's owner's apartment with the vibrant streets of Tokyo, again reflective of her journey. Additionally, the score from Katsuhiko Maeda (working under the name World's End Girlfriend) enhances it's emotional depth. Kore-eda's purposeful editing is smooth and contemplative, allowing one to lose oneself in Nozomi's world.

Bae Doona stars as Nozomi, delivering a nuanced performance that is a masterclass in understatement and physicality. Her expressive eyes and body language effectively convey Nozomi's wonder, confusion and eventual longing for human connection. Doona perfectly captures the innocence and curiosity of her character with subtlety, making her transformation believable and poignant.

Her co-stars also deliver. Itsuji Itao is both seedy and pitiful as Nozomi's owner, bringing a vulnerability to the role that is most interesting. Arata Iura, as the video store clerk, deftly displays the compassionate empathy of his character, while Joe Odagiri thoughtfully underplays the smaller role of Nozomi's creator, making him something of a philosopher-poet. In Addition, Masaya Takahashi does marvellous work as an old man Noriko befriends, and the rest cannot be faulted.

As is the case with many of his films, Hirokazu Kore-eda's 'Air Doll' is a touching, tender exploration of urban loneliness, emphasising the universal need for connection. Featuring stellar cinematography from Ping Bin Lee, as well as a stirring score, it has a lot to offer. Bae Doona delivers a powerful performance, while her co-stars are equally compelling. To cut a long story short, 'Air Doll' is so good it may just blow your mind.