Plan 75 (Chie Hayakawa, 2022)

Chieko Baisho in Plan 75

Cast: Chieko Baisho, Hayato Isamuro, Stefanie Arianne, Taka Takao, Yumi Kawai, Hideko Okata, Kazuyoshi Kushida. Screenplay: Chie Hayakawa, Jason Gray. Cinematography: Hideho Urata. Production design: Setsuko Shiokawa. Film editing: Anne Klotz. Music: Rémi Boubai. 

Plan 75, Chie Hayakawa's debut feature, is a fable about a future in which the problem of an aging population in Japan produces legislation that encourages people over 75 to take the option of government-funded euthanasia. It's a very near future: The clothes, architecture, cars and trucks, and even the advertising design all look contemporary. Hayakawa takes a somber, thoughtful, low-key approach to material that could very easily be turned into a horror movie or a biting satire. In fact, the film is perhaps a little too somber and low-key, for the strongest note in the film is pathos, which tends to blunt its edge. The central character is Michi Kakutani (Chieko Baisho), who has reached the age of eligibility for Plan 75, as it's called, with no job, no family, and the threat of having no place to live. She gets much encouragement to sign up from the media, from advertising, and even from those in her age cohort, so she takes the step. At the same time, some of the young people who have been hired to administer the program begin to ask questions about it. Hiromu Okabe, who works in recruiting people for the plan, discovers that his uncle Yukio (Taka Takao) has signed up for it. When Hiromu looks into how the plan is funded, he discovers evidence of corruption. Maria (Stefanie Arianne), a Filipina who works in Japan so she can send money back home to pay for her daughter's operation, takes a job with the plan that involves removing the clothes of the deceased and sorting through their belongs. There are echoes of the Holocaust in what she does, and she finds corruption, too. And Yoko (Yumi Kawai), who works as a counselor for those who sign up, spending 15 minutes a week on the phone with them, begins to have doubts about her job when she violates protocol and meets Michi in person, finding a woman still full of life and spirit. Still, the program is such a success that by the end of the film the government is thinking of lowering the eligibility age to 65. Almost all of the conflict in the film is internal: The only sign of opposition to the program comes when something is flung at a poster Hiromu is putting up. Hayakawa deserves praise for not yielding to conventional movie sensationalism, but as haunting as the film is, it would have benefited from a slightly sharper edge. 

Our Marriage (Masahiro Shinoda, 1961)

Noriko Maki and Chieko Baisho in Our Marriage

Keiko: Noriko Maki
Saeko: Chieko Baisho
Komakura: Shin'ichiro Mikami
Matsumoto: Isao Kimura
Father: Eijiro Tono
Mother: Sadako Sawamura

Director: Masahiro Shinoda
Screenplay: Zenzo Matsuyama, Masahiro Shinoda
Cinematography: Masao Kosugi
Art direction: Chiyoo Umeda
Film editing: Yoshi Sugihara
Music: Naozumi Yamamoto

It goes without saying (though I've said it often enough) that cultural differences are a hindrance to our understanding or enjoyment of films made in other countries, but Masahiro Shinoda's Our Marriage brought the point home for me in an unusual way. It's a simple, elegantly made film, scarcely over an hour long, about two sisters and the pressures on women to get married. That's nothing we haven't seen in films by Naruse and Ozu and others, but Shinoda is particularly focused on social and economic change -- not just in the role of women in Japan but also on a society in which upward mobility is becoming possible and desirable. Keiko and Saeko are office workers in a factory, the daughters of a man struggling to make ends meet by harvesting seaweed. His job has become more difficult because of industrial pollution, and his wife sometimes has to borrow money from the daughters to pay bills. So the parents begin looking for a husband for 22-year-old Keiko. The father wants her to marry the son of the union chief at the factory, a widower nearing 30, but another man, Matsumoto, who works for a dry goods company, also shows interest in her. The parents disapprove of Matsumoto because he traded in the black market in the postwar years, but he has since cleaned up his act. The complication is that Keiko has met a handsome young factory worker, Komakura. Saeko, who has a secret crush on Komakura, wants Keiko to marry him, and Keiko is certainly not averse to the idea except that Komakura doesn't make much money. Things work themselves out after some family drama, of course. But the cultural difference that mars the film for me is not the tension between arranged marriages and marrying for love -- that's familiar enough even in the Western tradition. The problem is that the music arranger has chosen the tune of the old spiritual "Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore" as the film's main theme. Anyone who grew up singing it around a campfire, or knows the recorded versions by Pete Seeger and Harry Belafonte, is going to have a hard time reconciling the music with the story.

Ballad of a Worker (Keisuke Kinoshita, 1962)

Hideko Takamine and Keiji Sada in Ballad of a Worker

Torae Nonaka: Hideko Takamine
Yoshio Nonaka: Keiji Sada
Chiyo: Yoshiko Kuga
Toshiyuki Nonaka: Toyozo Yamamoto
Miyoko Ishikawa: Chieko Baisho
Mochizuki: Kiyoshi Nonomura
Mrs. Mochizuki: Kin Sugai
Yoshio's Mother: Teruko Kishi
Yoshio's Father: Toranosuke Ogawa

Director: Keisuke Kinoshita
Screenplay: Keisuke Kinoshita
Cinematography: Hiroshi Kusuda
Music: Chuji Kinoshita

Keisuke Kinoshita's somewhat conventional and sentimental temperament informs this film about 16 years in the lives of Torae and Yoshio Nanaka, beginning with Yoshio's return from the war in 1946 and ending with the graduation of their son, Toshiyuki, from university in 1962. The couple scrimp and save to give their only child an education, hoping that he'll have a better live than theirs: Yoshio works on the roads around their village, and Torae is a housekeeper for his boss. The strength of the film lies in its earnest portrayal of ordinary lives -- even Toshiyuki is only a middling student, which means he has to work his way through college, even with the help of his parents. What it lacks is some wit and irony to leaven the rather plodding narrative.