4.5 min. read
Toshihiko Tanaka’s feature film debut gives you a full plate to digest for its three-hour-and-change runtime. To say the least though, a film like Rei will give you a good emotional workout thanks to its compelling drama and script, and hypnotic visuals.
Hikari (Takara Suzuki) is a loner in Tokyo. Her life is prominently carefree as she spends her days working or going to see plays. It’s the kind of freedom that her best friend Asami (Maeko Oyama) admires of her and even aspires to have, her devoted life to marriage and motherhood notwithstanding. The two go see a play of Hikari’s choosing, inspired by the cover photo used on one of her Playbills. The move is actually in an effort to contact the photographer behind the image, Masato (Toshihiko Tanaka), so that he can possibly take her photo in natural, non-artificial settings.
It’s a paid gig, and while reluctant at first – albeit for reasons pertaining to his inability to speak and hear – Masato accepts the offer, and heads to Tokyo where the two manage to get acquainted for the first time. The connection is a challenge to make at first, but after several written exchanges and gestures with one another, the two are able to discover something a little more intimate in their colloquialism. The job also paves the way for Masato to take a family photo of Asami, her husband Kohei (Shogo Moriyama), and their special-needs daughter, Hina (Hana Kanno).
Both Hikari and Asami have plenty happening behind the scenes of their personal lives, a dichotomy that also serves as a testament to the increasing uneasiness of their friendship as the film progresses. Hikari pursues a getaway to visit Masato at the remote cabin he shares with roomate Shinya (Akio Ikeda) out in the wintery region of Hokkaido. Meanwhile, Asami is forced to contend with the demands of caring for Hina, and increasing weight of her responsibility, all while fully unaware of Kohei’s turmoil at work, in addition to his more extramarital dealings.
What ensues is an immediate downward spiral for each of our characters. For Asami, it’s only a matter of time before she and Kohei are forced to face reality when it comes to their marriage and Hina’s well-being. The instance almost equally models that of Hikari who slowly but surely discovers there is more to Masato than meets the eye, making choices that fall short of the bond she was able to establish with Masato, and which ultimately force her to reconcile with who she is, and what she wants in life the most.
Rei lays out the risks in gradual fashion, slowly peeling back the mystery of each character to reveal who they are. In doing so, co-lead/writer/director Tanaka crafts an emotional rollercoaster tackling a multitude of themes like love, betrayal, self-discovery, and happiness, all to formulate the larger narrative at hand. The movie starts with an outline of what our title means as a singular kanji character in Japanese, and its more defining coherence when paired with other kanji. Tanaka’s juxtaposition of this through character development results in an unraveling litany of catastrophic situations, culminating the messiness of life and love, and how it mirrors in the significance we give others.
It’s worth pointing out that Tanaka shepherds a heavy-handed drama through an amply-balanced approach. His scenes with Suzuki are carefully thought out and well-executed to convey the journey of a fledgling romance between a man unable to hear or speak since childhood, and a woman open to understanding him no matter what it takes. The lynchpin moment where the fallout begins is one of two scenes where we begin to learn about what’s really going on between Masato and another character, a factor that could have bearing on how you might feel about our characters going forward.
Barring any spoilery details, at least one scene happens that results in Masato taking a bevy of photos on a couple making out in the shadows before high-tailing it. Another scene sees our photographer running away covered in cuts and bruises, with his camera covered in blood that isn’t his own, before Hikari manages to find him to make one last and desperate plea.
At times I was moved, and in others I was a little raged and fed-up, which probably speaks to how drawn in I was with Rei. All in all, if stories of romantic upheaval and troubling introspection told against backdrops of snow-driven and picturesque locales and Tokyo’s urban atmosphere, Tanaka’s Rei pretty much has you covered.
Rei was reviewed for the 17th edition of Japan Cuts which runs from July 10 through 21.
