Just watched: Heiwa

Some films these days are practically put together by the marketing department. A gap in the market is identified, or a big hit is replicated, and a film is made specifically to suit that situation. I can’t imagine anyone in a big film studio banging their fists on a table, demanding that this particular film be made. It’s too random for that. Too obscure.

Heiwa ("Peace") is a documentary, released in 2010, that follows a number of people who work with the disabled in the community or the elderly. Offering transport, or cleaning services. The film watches unremarkable scenes like going to buy a pair of shoes or simply take a woman from one place to another. It even takes time to describe the relationships of the various cats who gather outside one person’s house. These scenes are fascinating in how ordinary they are.

Perhaps the highlight are the final scenes: One house-bound old man, conscious of the film crew and aware that he might seem quite boring, starts talking about his time in the war, much to his carer’s surprise.

The film draws some interesting parallels between the service providers and the service users. The disabled are dependant on the help provided, but equally the helpers are dependant on their expenses being paid from government programs. It’s clear that both of these sections of society are undervalued and, sadly, ignored by society as a whole.

But this film doesn’t bang a drum or push these conclusions in the viewer’s face. In fact, this realisation dawned on me a couple of days after having seen it. This documentary is quietly observational, allowing the story to meander from place to place, and whatever the viewer wants to take from this is fine.

Just watched: The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On

Typing “Japan” or “Japanese” into the search engine on the Internet Archive can throw up some interesting results, such as film footage of a Tokyo street soon after the war, or a book written by an English governess working in Japan in 1910.

Perhaps the most surprising and interesting thing I found was this film (note, only the links at the bottom of the page seem to work). Released in 1987, but filmed during a five year period, it tells the story of an ex-Japanese soldier trying to discover the truth about two soldiers who were executed by firing squad a couple of days after the end of the World War Two.

Okuzaki Kenzo is the main focus of the documentary and he makes no apologies for his views or actions. In the first scene, he explains how he’s murdered a man, and tried to shoot the Emperor. As you watch the film, you get a sense of how betrayed he felt by his country during the war: how the ruling classes and the royal family were responsible for the horrors that he saw.

He was part of a unit that was stuck in New Guinea, beyond the reach of any help from home, slowly starving to death. It was during this time that the two soldiers were executed, and Okuzaki considers it his duty to track down those involved in the firing squad to get their testimony to find out what really happened.

At first, he is accompanied by relatives of the deceased soldiers but after a while, they stop participating in the film and he has to ask other people to pretend to be the soldiers’ brother or sister.

As he finds and questions each participant, he does so with a single-mindedness that borders on obsession. On two occasions he physically assaults them when they won’t give him a straight answer. He is certainly fearless, and this makes for some interesting encounters.

In this film, the director seems almost completely absent. It’s very much an old-fashioned approach to documentaries. These days, it is expected and accepted that the director will have a particular point of view, and will edit the story to suit it. But in this film, all shots are hand-made and use natural light with very little opportunity for any stylistic additions. The conversations are edited, of course, but in an unobtrusive way.

The director, Hara Kazuo (who also directed Goodbye CP) leaves it up to us to decide what we make of the story: whether we admire or abhor Okuzaki’s desire for the truth. After all, he is a murderer accusing other people of murder, and more than once he points to one of his companions and says “the soldier’s brother has come all the way here to hear the truth”, which makes him a liar who demands that others tell the truth.

Although in the end the secret is discovered, the film doesn’t have a happy ending. A series of captions at the end tells us that Okuzaki later tried to shoot the commanding officer who ordered the execution, only he could not, so he shot he officer's son instead. Not fatally, but he was given twelve years for attempted murder. While he was in jail, his wife passed away.

It’s a brilliant film, but not easy to watch and often I found his attitude to violence somewhat disturbing. And the epilogue gives the film a slightly bitter moral: that knowing the truth may not bring you peace of mind at all.

Recommended: Jiro Dreams Of Sushi

This documentary tells the story of a sushi chef, Ono Jiro, who is the oldest chef in the world to have three Michelin stars. Despite working into his eighties, he shows no sign of retiring any time soon.

The film is beautifully and carefully shot, which seems only right since they are filming some of the most accomplished professionals in their field. We get to see a lot of the processes involved, from choosing the fish at the market to the amount of dedication and skill to make the final dishes.

We also meet some of the people involved, and I noticed how relaxed and unremarkable these experts all are. There film also spends a lot of time with Jiro's eldest son, who works under him. There's a recurring theme that, when Jiro retires and his son takes over, the business will suffer even though he's every bit as good as the father and even made some of the sushi for the Michelin guide.

On a personal level, this film reminded me of why I like Japan. After a few months of being busy with life and other things, I've spent most of that time watching dramas where people fall in love, or die, or solve crimes: Universal stories which could be set anywhere. It feels like it's been a long time since I watched something so specific to Japan.

The downside is, watching this film will make you very hungry.

Just watched: Yoshitaka Yuriko challenges Macbeth

Actually, the proper name for this program was "Yoshitaka Yuriko: 6 Days in London; I Challenged Macbeth" but if I put all that in the title, the whole thing would include two colons and a semi-colon, and that's a lot of punctuation just for the title of a blog post.

Anyway, recently I've been doing quite a tiring job, so I can't watch anything new because I don't know if I'm going to fall asleep halfway through. As such, I've been going back and watching old things I've seen before. In this forty minute documentary, Yoshitaka Yuriko has the impossible task of playing Lady Macbeth in English. In London. In six days.

It's not a proper production – the final play looks like it's staged in a room over a pub – but you can tell it's still stressful as she struggles to deal with a play that's in a foreign language. In one very awkward scene she breaks down and cries during rehearsals because she can't get it right. In fact, she seems to be getting worse.

In the end she makes it through, and the play is fine. People say nice things about her, but there's no denying that –from what is shown of the play – she's not a great Lady Macbeth. For a start, she's too young, and lacks the presence to make it work.

On the other hand, she was very brave to even try it. After all, she's a famous, successful actress who doesn't need to take risks. And this is illustrated in a scene where she goes to the pub with the cast after rehearsals. They ask her how many films she's been in, and she holds up a hand with one finger, and another hand with four fingers. "Five?" they say, very impressed that she's been in so many films. Then she has to correct them: "No. Fourteen."

Just watched: Soko ga Shiritai

I've had a few episodes of this series on an external hard drive for some time now, and so I thought I should write about it. This is a documentary series with a slightly random feel to it, as if they just went out with a camera and a theme, and filmed whatever happened. It ran from 1982 to 1997, and it covered a wide range of topics about life in Japan.

Let me just say that if the past is another country, then the past of another country is like two other countries layered on top of each other. For me, with no first-hand knowledge of 1980s Japan (apart from playing Shenmue over and over), it can be quite odd. Somehow familiar, but also decidedly different.

You can see the germ of an idea that would pop up regularly in TV dramas when one episode discusses what it means when a woman turns thirty. They talk about how attitudes to family and society change. Of course, this is the main plot-line in countless Japanese dramas: the only difference being that the age has slowly crept up from 30 to 40.

There are some fascinating insights, such as those that follow trainees and new employees in companies. Other episodes are fairly rambling, and they do feel as if they're made up on the spot. For example, an episode about heirlooms involves a sequence where the presenter goes from door to door in a neighbourhood asking if they can film any antiques they might have.

They're definitely worth digging out – there are plenty of episodes on YouTube. In fact, I've just seen one called "Cryptic Classifieds" which I'm going to watch now, just to see what it's about.

Recommended: Children of the Tsunami

This BBC documentary tells the tale of a year since the tsunami and Fukushima nuclear incident through the words of the children it affected.

The central premise is a smart idea and very touching. The children show a resilience which is quite admirable, even though they've been through so much. They continue to face difficulties with every day issues such as using radiation detectors before they can play, and staying away from puddles.

They face these new challenges with strength and humour. And this is the main message of the documentary – that from the events of 11th March, a new generation is growing up keen to face these problems in the future. If they don't get sick from the radiation, that is. And any psychological issues are only briefly touched upon, with a reference to a brother of one of the interviewees. Perhaps a little too briefly.

It's very nicely shot. Well, you can hardly not get affecting pictures from the ghost towns and wrecked buildings along Japan's east coast. And the stories from the children and the adults gives a glimpse of the different ways that people have been affected by the tsunami. It's a very moving and thoughtful piece of television and a worthwhile addition to the list of documentaries and films on the same subject.

Recommended: Goodbye CP

This documentary from 1972 focuses on a group of people with cerebral palsy. The film focuses mostly on one, a poet, but also spends time with the others especially a photographer in the group.

The techniques of making the film are interesting. It’s shot in harsh black and white and the soundtrack is almost always out of sync, so it’s not the easiest documentary to watch. Close-ups and shots are held for longer than usual, asking the viewer to look at these people for longer than necessary, in contrast to the usual reaction of not looking at them at all. The narrative of the documentary, too, is interesting as Yokoto Hiroshi (the poet) expresses his increasing dissatisfaction with the way the film-making process is going.

The abiding memory is how ordinary these people are. The film walks a fine line between highlighting their physical disability and their characters. Perhaps the perfect example of this is right at the beginning when Hiroshi says he can cross the road faster on his knees (which is how he usually walks) than in his wheelchair, and he demonstrates this. But after a short while, he drops his glasses. He stops to pick them up and then tries to go faster, which causes him to stumble. It’s quite difficult to watch, but when he gets to the other side, he laughs and talks about how scared he was.

It’s a remarkable film, and definitely educational. It starts by being about cerebral palsy, but it ends by being about people with cerebral palsy.