The Whispering Star

The Whispering Star truly solidifies Sion Sono as one of the greatest filmmakers working in the world today. This low budget sci-fi-art-house film is the first feature from Sion Productions, the directors own production company and is based on a script he wrote 25 years ago. Whispering Star is probably the directors most abstract work and will definitely divide audiences. The only real actor in the film is incredible Megumi Kagurazaka, the dialogue is spoken only in whispers and it mostly takes place on a spaceship that looks like a Japanese house and the ruins of Fukashima, which double as barren planets. That being said, this is definitely the most visually beautiful film of Sono's career and is probably the most beautifully filmed movie of 2015. Masterfully shot in stunning black & white (except for one gorgeous scene), the film's cinematography is truly amazing. The spaceship flying through the galaxy, the devastated landscapes of the planets she visits and the nature that survived will stay in your memory for a long time after viewing. Without giving anything away, the film deals with the subject of loneliness and how everybody and everything truly needs somebody or something in order to feel alive. Even if it's far away, just knowing that person is out there is enough to make your survive.

The reviews of this film will definitely be split. Some will love it, some will hate it, it will mean something different for every viewer, just don't go into it expecting anything like the directors most recent works. This film is something else entirely, and that is why Mr.Sono is one of the best directors in the world today. As his output goes into hyper-drive, he becomes even harder to pin down.

"The Whispering Star" strikes at first thanks to an unexpected austerity and elegance that set it apart from Sion Sono's most known repertoire. The film follows android Yoko Suzuki's daily life as she travels through space to deliver packages. Despite teleportation technology being available, humans still prefer to spend years, sometimes decades, for their deliveries, as the wait is what makes the items special. The nostalgic mood suggests that people eventually rejected modern technologies to retain their emotions and humanity. Yoko's spacecraft looks like an old Japanese house, and all the technology we get to see is retro to say the least (tape recorders, dry cell batteries, gramophones). A strange emphasis is also put on sound: for example, while the sand under an old woman's fingers is loud as hell, the waves crashing against the shore seem to make no sound at all. On some planets, humans became their own shadows, and cannot survive any sound that is louder than 30 decibels.

The concept is definitely interesting, but I wonder if it was enough for a full-length feature film. Most of the running time is spent with Yoko silently walking across post-apocalyptic landscapes and repeating the same chores all over again inside the spacecraft. Even though these scenes help the viewer feel the monotony and lose the perception of time just like Yoko, I don't think the payoff was worth the patience. Sure the sepia cinematography is gorgeous, and there are a few highly poetic moments here and there, but sometimes it gets tough to keep the focus on the film rather than your grocery list.

It's a contemplative work that cherishes fading memories and reflects on what it is to be human, but a short might have been more than enough to convey the same meaning.

It's not a bad film but it's a difficult watch. Even if I like the crazy Sono, I also appreciate his quieter films (I absolutely love The Land of Hope), but this is a bit too introspective for my taste.

Certainly beautiful, certainly with a lot of meaning, certainly with great acting, but boy...I'm sure I will not rewatch it even with all it's merits, as this seemed much longer than it is.

This is a hard one to pin down. It's unlike anything Sion Sono has done before and is the type of film that will have some proclaiming it a masterpiece while others won't like it at all. I can see arguments for both cases but I thought it was a beautifully done piece, visually, and a quiet thoughtful film when considering its implications.

Other than one brief scene in color it is entirely in black and white. Early on it put me in mind of Cory McAbee's wonderful space-western/musical THE AMERICAN ASTRONAUT (2001) in that it shares the same approach with a simplistic unconventional design to the spaceship and the way it is seen in the exterior shots as it travels through the lonely cosmos. With THE WHISPERING STAR the interior design has old timey retro gadgetry and commonplace items like a washing machine and a refrigerator full of what looked like cans of beer. In both films these scenes were intentionally styled as oddities and both were effective despite being low budget. But that's where the similarity in the films ends as they become quite different experiences.

There is very little dialogue in THE WHISPERING STARS, and it's all done in whispers, lending meaning to the title. The onboard computer is called "computing device 6-7 MAH Em" and it talks in the quiet voice of a young child, trying to engage android Yoko Suzuki, a courier in the "SPACE PARCEL SERVICE," in conversations, which are largely ignored by the latter. Even seemingly important decisions on coarse corrections go unresponded to so 6-7 MAH Em just deals with whatever needs to be done while Yoko is more likely to grab a beer from the fridge, study the pile of packages yet to be delivered, or listen to old voice recordings she made. Days pass, even years, with nothing much happening in between the brief stops on planets to deliver packages to humans, all of which has us (and Yoko) wondering at the meaning of the contents of the packages which often seem trivial or unexplainable mysteries at best.

Interesting too is that the scenes taking place on the planets were filmed in and around the mostly abandoned city of Fukushima, Japan, where the nuclear power plant catastrophe occurred. Which enhances the feeling of questioning loneliness that Yoko feels as she goes about her deliveries.

Very different sort of film for Sono but I liked it and, if anything, I am more impressed by him than ever. There is no telling what he will come up with next but I'll be along for the ride.

– Far into the future people are shadows of their former selves. Humans are far too short-lived and vulnerable, so artificial intelligence pervades the universe. One humanoid robot named Yoko, delivers packages to the fringes of distant galaxies. She has time on her hands so she listens to the audio diary of her predecessor, wonders at the fluttering of moths and peeks inside the packages. The parcels are filled with non-essential items that only humans could appreciate; faded photographs, bits of cloth and little mementos of every description. She is intrigued. As she interacts with humans on scattered planets Yoko learns to ride a bicycle and appreciate sounds, among other things. She sees that machines aren't so perfect and make mistakes just like humans do. "This film will give you a greater understanding of what it means to be human," said the director in Toronto. The film is set with 1950s décor and is shot nearly all in black and white, with a burst of color during one scene that represents "nostalgia for the past."

The eerie and abandoned feeling to the city scenery is all too real because it was shot in the cordoned off area around Fukushima. The film crew obtained permits and included non-professional actors who were evicted from the area at the time of the disaster. All sounds were recorded after the scenes were filmed. This imaginative and cerebral film is slow-going. I appreciate slow-moving films, yet felt the points could have been better made in less time. All in all it is wonderful to see the mechanical Yoko begin to appreciate memories, taking pictures, throwing a ball to a dog, music, games and all the little things that humans appreciate. Three and a half of five stars. Seen at the Toronto International Film Festival 2015.