Still the Water

Disregard the bubble gum chewing burgers with attention deficit disorder whining about this movie being "boring". Sure, it is slow paced. But it's a very profound and beautiful allegory about nature and life. If you cannot appreciate the poetry of this film, I'm afraid your soul has been rotted away or you never had one.

That movie to contemplate the silence of the scenes while we reflect on the events, beautiful, poetic, intense, you have to pay attention to detail, and then I get lost, the charming Kyoko's family, strong scenes like the goat, hunting, bloody, rising sensuality and purity in nudity, simple and painful death, scenes broken by the sea and its surf, cold photography, blue and gray, passionate...

This movie deserves higher acclaim. I can understand why the director dubs it her masterpiece. The imagery is simply beautiful. The colour and the lighting of the sub-tropical Japanese island is captured perfectly. It makes you want to travel there. The rhythm and the tempo of the movie is slow, which make you wander in the wonderful landscape even longer. This is a poem on pellicule. Of course this is not a blockbuster, it is a totally different ball game, not even in the same ball park. It is like comparing techno music to Beethoven. Both have their charms and peers. Thematically, it is pretty far away from the high technological Japan, although there is a passage in Tokio. The sea and the landscape are definitely protagonists as well. As are the hundred years old trees. It is kind of a spiritual experience this movie. For me it was too short, I wished it lasted longer than two hours. You can rewatch the movie in smaller pieces and reflect them. It talks about all the Freudian core concepts: Eros and Thanatos. Life, death, sex and love, youth and old age, they are intertwined in this movie. It makes it a very visceral though subtle experience. It's soaked in the blue colours of the sky and sea, and the gold of the sun and skin colours. The music is very soulful as well, the chants, the prayers make it a very spiritual experience. Very cathartic film, warm, deep, poetic about letting go and awakening love. I am very curious to see this Japan and its incredible nature, this eastern beauty. It's balm for the soul.

It wasn't like watching a movie, it was like experiencing life. Perhaps women experience life by being (the director is a woman), and men by achieving. Because it felt like I was immersed in life itself, and not racing to a conclusion. It was a cross section of different lives, at a particular point. And though characterised by huge upheavals, there was stillness throughout. You cannot miss the analogy with the sea, which is a constant presence. Warm and inviting, or lethal and threatening in turn.

Beautiful locales, and Excellent performances. Understated, but spot on. But I thought the ailing mother was miscast. She looked out of place, and far from looking sick, she was positively glowing.

There's some jarring brutality towards animals and plants, perhaps as a reflection of our impotency in preventing death.

All in all, the island will stay with me for a while.

No, the last film of Naomi Kawase, internationally known as "Still the water", is not a film reserved to "intellectual people", as I heard recently. If we refer to "Last year at Marienbad" (Resnais-1961) as a film for"intellectual people", we find no common point, except slowness of the rhythm.

The spectator should only follow the example of the female heroin, Kyoko, who, in one scene at the beginning, dives into the sea with all her clothes (except her shoes), and enjoy this bath, meeting joyfully with the old-fellow fisherman, "PapyTortoise".

Following her example, we, spectators, should dive into the film, and enjoy the play of sunlight across the branches of the old banyan, just in front of the terrace of Kyoko's house; enjoy the meals lovely prepared by Kyoko's father (so much different from the meals eaten in a restaurant at Tokyo by Kaito, Kyoko's lover, and his father; and completely opposed to the food left by Kaito's mother in the refrigerator); enjoy even the soft departure of Isa, Kyoko's mother, after a long illness, among songs and dances.

I love so much this warm celebration of la joie de vivre, typically a Japanese one, as, after each disaster, typhoon, earthquake or tsunami, we see Japanese people build again, with a strong faith in life, all that has been destroyed.