Air Doll

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.

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/

Writer-director Kore-eda has a strong fanbase in Singapore after his well-received Nobody Knows garnered him quite the following from a screening here years back. No sooner than the festival's tickets had gone on sale that it registered its first sell-out session in Air Doll, and two other subsequent repeat screenings released had all its tickets already snapped up. Either that, or the appeal of watching a sex doll come to life under Singapore's R21 rating uncut is too hard to pass up. I had that opportunity to partake in a masterclass session with Kore-eda during last year's Tokyo International Film Festival where three of his films got screened overnight with the director and his guests in attendance, but alas I wasn't in top form to have covered it. I'm regretting it now.

The other film I had watched with a sex doll featured prominently in the story was Craig Gillespie's Lars and the Real Girl starring Ryan Gosling, where his character bought a custom made sex doll over the internet not for sex, but for companionship. Personally I've always thought it creepy for anyone to own a doll to interact with and yikes, to make love to, and here even christening it Nozomi. But as a character in Air Doll puts it, a real life relationship may be too hard for some folks to handle because it comes with inevitable problems, warts and all. And yes while that's the truth, I still can't fathom the necessity of owning a doll for sexual gratification, but I digress.

Kore-da's Air Doll is a fantasy film along the lines of Pinnochio, where an inanimate object comes to life and dreams of being a real boy. Here, it's all the more creepier when the air doll Nozomi suddenly without reason nor forewarning, starts to move on her own, and develops heart and soul through the course of the story. She doesn't need to yearn to be real, because she's almost real, utilizing clothing and makeup to conceal portions of her that are tell-tale signs that she's a life-sized made-of-plastic Barbie doll coming in the form of Korean actress Bae Doo-na (last seen in the Korean monster film The Host).

Bae brings her Nozomi a sense of that wide-eyed wonderment of the real world, and her performance as a plastic inflatable doll is flawless, with Nozomi constantly in amazement from the assault of the senses of sight, sound and touch. There's also a comedic innocence brought about through her zilch knowledge of the real world, which of course we'll expect this to be exploited by nastier humans, because the world is as evil as such, where innocence has no place once her honeymoon period is over. Balancing her routine very carefully with that of her owner Hideo's (Itsuji Itao) in order to enable her to work at a video store in the day, living an independent life undetected, and then being back at home on time to fulfill Hideo's sexual needs, things start to become a little more complicated when she develops feelings for her colleague Junichi (Arata).

Paced slowly to mirror Nozomi's journey of discovery of all things beautiful, from cosmetics to toddlers to that proverbial flower along the sidewalk, Air Doll contains a few scenes that provide that stark commentary about the emptiness of soul and the loneliness experienced in big city living. To Nozomi it's an abstract concept that she grasps only literally, but for the rest of us, we're likely to nod in agreement with the statements, since we're experiencing such feelings day in and day out. It is these episodes and incidents, through Nozomi's interactions with others that bring the film to life, and some of these can be as short as one self-contained scene like the one on the bus where she lends her shoulder to a sleeping man. It's all within our means to show a little compassion and to make the world a better place to live in.

While yet consumed with a pop kind of feeling throughout, and Kore-eda's most erotic film to date, the film is a meditation of life, and the fragility of it, where people are constantly in search of substitutes for things they cannot obtain to fulfill some need or want, which reflects quite well of our modern life where distractions are many, and substitution being a way of life from products to services. I absolutely loved how Kore-eda provided us scenes of satisfaction with a montage of lonely people doing simple things, to that switch later on with dissatisfaction with the same. It's a wonderful fantasy film that makes us reflect on our own parallels, but doesn't do so in a preachy way, instead relying on tragedy and especially comedy through the literal interpretation of things, to lighten the mood.

The science-fiction equivalent will be something like Spielberg's A.I., where a young robot embarks on a quest to find his mother and become a real boy This air doll has plenty of humanity inside her, full of soul and that never-ceasing innocent curiosity that makes it a delight to watch, maintaining touching aspects to tug at your heartstrings. I'm quite certain the audience who have snapped up tickets so eagerly won't be left disappointed.

Once again, Koreeda Hirokazu puts the finger on his recurring topic: the insular lifestyle in urban Japan, and how interactions fail to achieve fulfillment.

The premise of a sex doll coming to life may appear a bit irksome, but 'Air Doll' is Koreeda's most introspective film to date because he establishes a solitary principal character observing her surroundings. This allows for a somewhat analytical narrative comment which goes beyond an exclusive focus on Tokyoites. The deductions of the doll Nozomi could be well transmitted to postmodern society as a whole: love excludes ownership, submissiveness culminates in (self)destruction and abandonment, and there is no remedy for a human heart. Some of the lines by which these points are made seem truly unforgettable, such as when the doll's creator mentions that the only distinction between humans and dolls is that we are combustible, while they are non-combustible trash.

As a result, 'Air Doll' is very philosophical and dark, maybe a bit exceedingly so. Yet the film doesn't ignore the humorous implications of an air doll coming to life, which makes for a few breaks in the simple story, as do a number of well-placed side characters. And the slow pace typical for Koreeda's films, plus wonderfully imaginative photography sum up to a thoroughly enjoyable and gratifying movie experience.

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.