"Let's live together, the four of us."
If there is both hope and sadness to be found in the human condition, it is to be found in films like ‘Our Little Sister’. Nurtured by Koreeda’s empathetic and sensitive direction, it flourishes into showers of pink cherry blossoms and joyous smiles, evoking such rapturous beauty that you want to stay in the moment for just a little longer. But time moves on- the seasons change, the cherry blossoms fall to the ground and people say their farewells to each other. Through its harmonious balancing of dual aspects: optimism and melancholy, caring and abandonment, life and death, this bittersweet drama embodies the concept of ‘Mono no Aware’ (物の哀れ). There is vibrance and beauty in the existence of life, but it is also fragile, transient- under the watchful gaze of an old mansion and a giant tree, it blooms and fades away in the tiniest span of time. But ‘Our Little Sister’ emphasises- quietly but emphatically- that this is all the more reason to savor it in every moment, be it eating meals with your loved ones, feeling the sun streaming down on your face as you ride through a tunnel of falling petals or looking out at the grey waves after a funeral has passed.
Moving away from this concept of ‘Mono no Aware’, Koreeda centres his drama on a fractured family unit and depicts how it heals-slowly- as the missing piece is filled by another. As he always does, he “turns the camera into a window” (to quote Brian Tallerico), capturing both the ups and downs, and the larger joys and tragedies with a masterful lucidity. I’ve already waxed lyrically on Koreeda’s other films so there isn’t much left for me to say as it ticks all of his boxes- damaged families, slow pacing, food scenes, passing trains, etcetera. One interesting thing that I would like to point out is how the composition of the (matriarchal) household has changed in the absence of the father and mother. Sure there are three sisters, but Sachi is ostensibly the mother-stern yet kind- while Yoshino and Chika are like unruly children. When Suzu enters the household, the two middle sisters move up the totem pole, resulting in the youngest sister being doted on as both a child and a little sister. And only when their real mother enters the picture are we reminded that Sachi is, herself, a daughter- even if her childhood was unwrought by the folly of adults. In depicting the shifting of familial roles, as he did in ‘Nobody Knows’, Koreeda provides a testament to the strength and adaptability of children (through three of them have grown up). Trauma may have shattered their lives, but through their shared companionship, they slipped back into the flow of life. Time spent together hardened and solidified the bonds between them, and having confronted and moved on from the past, their scars began to fade away.
The main deviating factor of ‘Our Little Sister’ from Koreeda's filmography is its soundtrack. Foregoing Gontiti's melancholy guitars or Bach's variations, Koreeda instead chooses a lush and sweeping orchestral score by the talented Kanno Yoko- a perfect complement to the scenic coastside setting of Kamakura. It seems not everyone liked this soundtrack, with some reviewers complaining that it is excessively sentimental, syrupy, sickly-sweet, something else with sibilance. However, I think that there is nothing wrong with it due to how this film is (intentionally) more of an audiovisual feast than Koreeda’s others. Similarly, the soundtrack could be accused of broadcasting the intended emotions too ‘obviously’, betraying Koreeda’s tendency towards the implicit and objective. But since the film doesn’t veer into being excessively sentimental or melodramatic, I don’t see a problem with this. In short, the soundtrack is excellent, and it is streaming on spotify and apple music for your listening pleasure.
A large part of this film’s popularity is presumably due to its ensemble cast, all of whom performed excellently. Ayase Haruka and Nagasawa Masami, both mainstream stars, conjured forth their inner talent to give naturalistic, high-caliber acting. Kaho, in a far cry from her darker roles, was great as the goofy Chika- though I still found it hard to erase the memory of her as the blood-soaked vampire warrior K from 'Tokyo Vampire Hotel'. Suzu, then a newcomer, clearly had some measure of uncertainty- but this was perfect for her character, whose wide eyes radiated sincerity and later, well-earned happiness. Other names with considerable mainstream fame- regulars Kirin Kiki, Lily Franky, Kase Ryo, then Suzuki Ryohei, Sakaguchi Kentaro (in a subtle ‘Ore Monogatari’ reunion), Tsutsumi Shin'ichi, Fubuki Jun, Otake Shinobu (the mothers from ‘Soredemo Ikite Yuku’) and so on- also contributed to the vast stirring pot of talent. Another special mention to Oshiro Maeda, then a young lad, who I hope to see in more of Koreeda’s future works.
Compared to his other work, ‘Our Little Sister’ isn’t regarded as strongly by critics. It was apparently disparaged at Cannes and critics have looked down their noses at it, labelling it as “decidedly middle-brow”, “Kore-eda lite”, “frictionless” and worst of all, “boring”. To which I say that they’re just snobbish, pretentious and a bit too jaded. This film isn’t meant to be dark, conflicted, fraught with emotion. It is meant to be a feast for the senses and for the heart- and to that end it succeeds, leaving viewers emotionally satisfied and with just a tinge of wistful sadness. 8.5/10
Moving away from this concept of ‘Mono no Aware’, Koreeda centres his drama on a fractured family unit and depicts how it heals-slowly- as the missing piece is filled by another. As he always does, he “turns the camera into a window” (to quote Brian Tallerico), capturing both the ups and downs, and the larger joys and tragedies with a masterful lucidity. I’ve already waxed lyrically on Koreeda’s other films so there isn’t much left for me to say as it ticks all of his boxes- damaged families, slow pacing, food scenes, passing trains, etcetera. One interesting thing that I would like to point out is how the composition of the (matriarchal) household has changed in the absence of the father and mother. Sure there are three sisters, but Sachi is ostensibly the mother-stern yet kind- while Yoshino and Chika are like unruly children. When Suzu enters the household, the two middle sisters move up the totem pole, resulting in the youngest sister being doted on as both a child and a little sister. And only when their real mother enters the picture are we reminded that Sachi is, herself, a daughter- even if her childhood was unwrought by the folly of adults. In depicting the shifting of familial roles, as he did in ‘Nobody Knows’, Koreeda provides a testament to the strength and adaptability of children (through three of them have grown up). Trauma may have shattered their lives, but through their shared companionship, they slipped back into the flow of life. Time spent together hardened and solidified the bonds between them, and having confronted and moved on from the past, their scars began to fade away.
The main deviating factor of ‘Our Little Sister’ from Koreeda's filmography is its soundtrack. Foregoing Gontiti's melancholy guitars or Bach's variations, Koreeda instead chooses a lush and sweeping orchestral score by the talented Kanno Yoko- a perfect complement to the scenic coastside setting of Kamakura. It seems not everyone liked this soundtrack, with some reviewers complaining that it is excessively sentimental, syrupy, sickly-sweet, something else with sibilance. However, I think that there is nothing wrong with it due to how this film is (intentionally) more of an audiovisual feast than Koreeda’s others. Similarly, the soundtrack could be accused of broadcasting the intended emotions too ‘obviously’, betraying Koreeda’s tendency towards the implicit and objective. But since the film doesn’t veer into being excessively sentimental or melodramatic, I don’t see a problem with this. In short, the soundtrack is excellent, and it is streaming on spotify and apple music for your listening pleasure.
A large part of this film’s popularity is presumably due to its ensemble cast, all of whom performed excellently. Ayase Haruka and Nagasawa Masami, both mainstream stars, conjured forth their inner talent to give naturalistic, high-caliber acting. Kaho, in a far cry from her darker roles, was great as the goofy Chika- though I still found it hard to erase the memory of her as the blood-soaked vampire warrior K from 'Tokyo Vampire Hotel'. Suzu, then a newcomer, clearly had some measure of uncertainty- but this was perfect for her character, whose wide eyes radiated sincerity and later, well-earned happiness. Other names with considerable mainstream fame- regulars Kirin Kiki, Lily Franky, Kase Ryo, then Suzuki Ryohei, Sakaguchi Kentaro (in a subtle ‘Ore Monogatari’ reunion), Tsutsumi Shin'ichi, Fubuki Jun, Otake Shinobu (the mothers from ‘Soredemo Ikite Yuku’) and so on- also contributed to the vast stirring pot of talent. Another special mention to Oshiro Maeda, then a young lad, who I hope to see in more of Koreeda’s future works.
Compared to his other work, ‘Our Little Sister’ isn’t regarded as strongly by critics. It was apparently disparaged at Cannes and critics have looked down their noses at it, labelling it as “decidedly middle-brow”, “Kore-eda lite”, “frictionless” and worst of all, “boring”. To which I say that they’re just snobbish, pretentious and a bit too jaded. This film isn’t meant to be dark, conflicted, fraught with emotion. It is meant to be a feast for the senses and for the heart- and to that end it succeeds, leaving viewers emotionally satisfied and with just a tinge of wistful sadness. 8.5/10
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