We meet the characters in Kiyoshi Kurosawa's really well made 2009 Japanese film Tokyo Sonata as they hover very delicately over a precipice in life; the resulting drama born out of several frustrations and rather life changing events, as children grow up into young adults and middle aged men supposedly grow up into obsolete old age, captured wonderfully thanks largely to a sophisticated and level headed script complimented by some fabulous direction. The film will begin with a very harmonious glide over the rooms of a Toyko based home, the rain falling outside as everything lies still in this tranquil but largely colourless series of places of dwelling. When we finally get sight of flesh and blood, it's of a woman sitting on the floor beside a kitchen back-door, her actions of shutting the door to stop the water drifting in and making a mess then counteracted by her own opening of it back up again to prevent the prevention. Such an action is, at the be-all and end-all, somewhat destructive; a sabotaging of one's better being so as to allow for chaos, however minute in the form of rainwater blowing in and saturating the general area, to unfold and consume the area quite clearly on show. As Kurosawa's film rolls on, we begin to realise anger; frustration and destructive natures play an awfully large part in the lives of the family whom lives in the house, but with stakes and well being greatly raised above that of a wet floor.The film is ultimately about the family members' forging of new identities, forced or otherwise, and advancing on in life whilst systematically having to deal with the fact precisely this is simultaneously happening to each of those within the unit around them. Kurosawa balances each of the respective plights efficiently and methodically, one character's decent into unemployment after so many years granted as much screen time as another's lust to learn the piano as another character announces his desire to branch off into the army following menial work here and there. His film borrows largely from the works of another Japanese director named Ozu but is neatly distilled, at least for the early part, through a filter of often black comedy that combines well with undercurrents of social realism reminiscent of a certain Mike Leigh. Tokyo Sonata zeroes in on the husband and father of the Sasaki family named Ryûhei (Kagawa); his two sons named Kenji (Inowaki) and Takashi (Koyanagi) as well as wife and the mother of these sons Megumi (Koizumi), each of them here captured as going through a respective transitional phase as several stages of the bounding forward in one's life occurs at once to many of them.The catalyst appears to be the firing of Ryûhei from his steady office job and inability to confirm to his home unit this news, his employers stating that never again will Ryûhei be able to work under the same circumstances as he did before nor in a similar job; that the modernising and expansion into territory which sees an influx of Chinese orientated territory has effectively rendered his contribution null and void. At home, the essence of both modernity, globalisation and the products of the modern age further-still seep into his life when his two sons cause such ripples. Kenji is a young boy on the cusp of leaving school before most probably moving into the working world; on the way home from school, and after the film has established he is unafraid to answer back to figures of authority – something which is key for later on, the film captures his gazing at a piano sitting in a teacher's living room as she instructs. On top of this, eldest son Takashi is sick of working as a leaflet distributor and tells his parents he is volunteering for a special, more specific role in the Armed Forces to do with aiding the Americans if needs be in The Middle East in an "aren't-we-all-happy-now-that-the-first-world-is-as-one" programme the product of globalisation.Around Ryûhei, many men of his age are equally unemployed with one such individual an old school acquaintance whom he runs into; here suggesting an entire generation of men being phased out by modernity and globalisation with similar things happening at each of their companies as happened to Ryûhei. His disdain at both of his sons becoming preoccupied with items infused within a sufficiently contemporary ideal, namely the desire to pay for piano lessons and become more enthused in an item of culture rather than head directly into employment directly out of school; or to nominate oneself to aid another nation entirely in fighting a foreign war, is purely the sign of the changing times and how things are now different when compared to Ryûhei's childhood, symptomatically running with Ryûhei's own loss of a clear cut grasp on the modern world following his redundancy. Embedded at the core of all this is Megumi, a character whose own respective journey culminates, through one means or another, in her occupying a beached locale in which the raging sea and jagged rocks form a messy pattern on one half of the frame with flatter, more normalised terrain placed directly opposite, thus neatly capturing the extreme shifts in madness and confusion with the normality that plagues her life. Tokyo Sonata is rather deeply involving, the strands connecting together and staying rather impressively true to overall tone quite well, and I look forward to seeing more of Kiyoshi Kurosawa's work in the future.

Moral authority as shown is a given, and it can be so fragile and easily destroyed. Kenji Sasaki (Inowaki Kai), the youngest son, in a scene with his school teacher, creates havoc by just merely stating the fact that the latter had been seen reading a porn comic on a train. Immediately the students entered into an ill-disciplined frenzy in the class which the teacher has little control over, a signal that he has lost all standing in imparting knowledge to minds that are to be molded.And in the main arc, face and standing in society are both easily lost as well, which the head of the Sasaki household Ryuhei (Teruyuki Kagawa) will discover when he gets retrenched as Director of Administration of a corporation. Being clueless on what to do, and how to break the news to his family (which will translate in equivalent terms into the chaos as seen in the classroom), he keeps mum and goes about his routine, heading toward free food lines and unemployment agencies to find another job. But one can imagine the stature of his previous job, and it never is easy to come to terms in the swallowing of Pride, and the acceptance of lower pay, longer hours, and of course, jobs that seem to belong to the lower rungs.Teriyuki Kagawa does a superb job in showing this fear and cluelessness of Ryuhei, who has to grapple with the fact that a victim of downsizing unfortunately has to have his expectations correspondingly reduced in tandem as well. Ever once in a while I would think of what I would do if I'm in the same shoes, and hopefully to lessen the impact should one day the same were to happen. Being unprepared on the receiving end of an outsourcing strategy, he got hit pretty hard, and living a lie to keep up the pretense is something quite pathetic.For all its prim and properness, society can be equally cruel because of the collective fear that hangs over the heads of failures. There are two superbly crafted arcs in Tokyo Sonata, each dealing with failure and the unfortunate ends that were followed to deal with the perceived shame and genuine despair and desperation. One involved Ryuhei's peer who went to the extreme of making himself seem busy with lucrative deals, but is actually sharing the same boat, at wits end since he's a 3-month old unemployed veteran who imparts survival tricks of concealment, and refuge such as the public library (I suppose with its air-conditioning, newspapers, and couches for that quick snooze. The other arc is somewhat of a quirky spin on narrative, with Koji Yakusho playing a comical rookie robber who, as it turns out, had consistently failed in the things he does.While a patriarchal society, the role of the wife and mother is equally important for the household to function and act as the glue of tolerance within the family. Kyoko Koizumi owned this character of Megumi, as she goes about her routine household chores with nary a complaint, always being there for her family in the preparation of warm meals, never chiding her husband or put him down when she learns of the truth accidentally (well, up to a certain point that is), and always protective of her children, seen from her constant reminder to her husband not to get mad when the children are going to tell him something he would disapprove of, coming to their defence when they get beat, and with reluctance, seeing her eldest son (Yu Koyanagi) off when he signs on with the American military. There's a breaking point in everyone, though of course a mother's love knows no bounds.Kurosawa's films are always wonderfully framed, and Tokyo Sonata boasts plenty of beautifully designed shots, not only for aesthetic reasons, but some to involve you in the scene as well. I especially liked the way how the dreaded pink slip got issued, where Ryuhei seemed so small, for an appointment of his stature, when called into his boss' office, and being challenged up front on what else he can contribute to the company, being asked to leave in indirect terms, yet with the meaning fully understood.The routine, impersonal way of the Sasaki family that we see in the beginning, each going about their own thing with nary an interaction other than over the dining table with a missing member, doesn't really get repaired. Some issues can be addressed, others can be accepted, life generally goes on and it's up to us to make the best out of it. The Sasaki family has this brief hiccup in their lives that forms the basis of Tokyo Sonata, and it's something that will both move you and bring about that general awareness of how Japanese society ticks. Definitely highly recommended, and a surprise of a gem from Kiyoshi Kurosawa that's not from his usual forte of works.

For a foreigner like me, Japan is a mystery, both wonderful, weird and hard to understand, especially since most of my information about the country is anecdotal or (worse?) coming from mangas. I've met people having the greatest respect for Japanese customs and people who completely badmouth the country.From this perspective, Tokyo Sonata is a bit of a gem, showing me how ordinary Japanese people live and think. There is the family, standard issue of father, mother and two children, and there are the roles: head of the family, respectful housewife, rebellious teenager and confused child. What do they do when the economic crisis and the traditional value system clash?I thought the actors were good, the soundtrack as well (to be expected given the title), and the plot was slow but crisp. There must have been a lot of expectations on a guy directing movies when his last name is Kurosawa and not related to Akira, because the movie was overall an excellent film. However, given its two hour length and slow pace, I advice you look at it when in the mood for cinematography, not some easy entertainment. Also, it is a pretty sad drama in places, so be ready to empathize with some hard hit people.

Parting the veil on a Japanese household teetering on the verge of collapse, "Tokyo Sonata" may be director Kiyoshi Kurosawa's most conventional work-if conventional is the right word for a film that explores the contemporary family dynamic with such brooding fortitude. The renowned Japanese horror filmmaker has created a startlingly candid portrait of domestic life in "Tokyo Sonata," a film that, by evoking the waking nightmares of repressed souls, brims with a terror of its own accord.Businessman Ryuhei Sasaki, victimized by economic downsizing after his company terminates his job, chooses to hide his predicament from his family by roaming the streets of Tokyo during daytime. His wife Megumi juggles housewife duties and a tenuous relationship with her oldest son Takashi, whose desire to break away from tradition echoes the detachment of Japanese youth in a society wreathed in materialism. The youngest member of the family, Kenji, rebels against authority yet displays sensitivity beyond his age when he discovers an innate passion for piano.Juxtaposing tight interior shots of living rooms with panoramic compositions of urban sprawl, Kurosawa imbues the film with something of an otherworldly presence-a haunting, dreamlike aura that pervades "Tokyo Sonata" as its dysfunctional family continues to crumble inwardly. Conversations dissipate; lies build on previous lies; a mother's love is torn between duty and empathy. Humiliated by his jobless situation yet determined to maintain his patriarchal status, Ryuhei physically abuses Kenji for secretly taking piano lessons after browbeating Megumi for allowing Takashi to join the military. Recession-plagued Tokyo, already a landscape of existential lament, gradually takes a backseat to familial destruction.The film's blend of domestic drama and social commentary is both poignant and timely. Office workers like Ryuhei and his colleagues are portrayed as ironic victims of the Japanese male dynamic, driven by their obligations to home and work yet completely unwilling to compromise after hitting rock bottom. In displaying the failure of authority in a culture that revolves around it, Kurosawa draws poignant contrasts. "We're like a slowly sinking ship," grieves an unemployed friend of Ryuhei. "The lifeboats are gone, the water's up to our mouths." Like a vessel slowly sliding into oblivion, ideals built around workplaces and households slowly disintegrate, replaced by coldness and bitter angst.Tellingly, "Tokyo Sonata" eventually mirrors these systematic collapses by venturing into surreal territory. In one of the film's most affecting sequences, an afternoon nap turns into a chilling seance when Takashi returns home from the war, saying to his mother, "I killed so many people." Megumi's troubled psyche finally begins to eat away at her maternal strength. When a wayward burglar abducts her, and Ryuhei and Kenji encounter catastrophic situations, the film's quiet buildup escalates into irreversible mayhem.When does it end, and where does it begin? The mother's catharsis, manifested in a sequence of lasting power, injects rays of hope into an otherwise miserable flurry of dead ends. The final movement of "Tokyo Sonata," uneven as it is compared to its predecessors, completes the cycle of fall and salvation with admirable finality. Powerfully acted and impeccably orchestrated, Kiyoshi Kurosawa's "Tokyo Sonata" is a masterful exercise in paradoxes: at one and the same time comical and melancholy, despairing and exultant, nihilistic and regenerative.