For years, I’ve heard arguments like “Films don’t really mean anything. They’re just entertainment devices,” and “Books are better than films because they improve your imagination,” which always makes me wonder: Why are people always fighting art vs. art?
Even if a film makes a very small impact on you as an individual, it has served its purpose if you are willing to act on it. Books make you think, but if a film is made with love and genuineity, it has served its purpose. It will make you think. However, we view films as a source of inspiration and books as a medium where we must focus on understanding it, even in the simplest ones, because one cannot always read a book but can understand a moving image. And because it makes the work convenient for the audience, mainstream cinema focuses on escapism, which is right but sometimes ends up giving films a bad name. This is not an essay on books vs. films, but on an actual mind change I had while watching a film about suicide and how it made me understand a perspective and made me empathize with the subject, which, at a younger age, I didn’t quite grasp.
A few days ago, I was catching up with the Japanese Film Festival 2024, and since it was the last eight hours left, I thought of checking out something I usually wouldn’t have as a genre. I am all about mental health, but as a child, I tried watching “13 Reasons Why” and “A Silent Voice,” which deal with mental health and grief, but I never really found them interesting and ultimately disliked them. Here, I wasn’t sure what I was getting into, which is good; we need to step out of our comfort zone sometimes, and what better place than a film festival for it?
The film starts with Tomoyo Shiino (Nagano Mei), our protagonist, learning that her best friend Mariko (Nao) had died falling from an apartment building. Now, that is okay, an apt start, but what truly hit me as the film progressed was when I learned about Mariko’s story from Tomoyo’s perspective. Tomoyo knew that Mariko had been terribly abused by her father since childhood. She steals her best friend’s bones away from her father and runs.
There’s an entire journey of her traveling with Mariko’s ashes as she heads towards the sea, where Mariko had always wanted to go, trying to remember her best memories, and every time she thought of her friend, only bad memories followed. Like Mariko slicing her wrist and blood drops falling out of her hands or the time when she saved her from being abused by her father. And every time a bad memory followed, Shiino would read a letter written by Mariko, and that would help her until those letters got stolen when a thief snatched her bag away.
Her memories are already fading, and you’re taking the last of what I remember of her! She cries. That was the moment that truly broke me. Nagano has been so brilliantly amazing in this film that I’ve felt the pain in every dialogue she uttered. From the young versions of Shiino and Mariko to the older ones, they have a bond, which Shinno was not obliged to keep, but she loves Mariko, and love is selfless and unconditional. In sickness and health, this also applies to friendship, which is why it moved me so much that she stayed. She was the only good thing in Mariko’s life, and she made that impact, making me realize the deepest wrongs in me.
I’ve always tried being away from those who are very upset or depressed because I feel it changes my state of mind and affects me adversely. “Why can’t people just choose themselves for once and try to be happy? It is a hard practice, but at least try!” I’d always say, but how can someone so broken even try? This makes me rethink every time I’ve seen people being at their worst and every time I’ve been at my worst. I realize that it’s not something we want to be. Its circumstances are okay, and it’s okay to be weak.
We deserve to be at peace, but sometimes, we must think of more than ourselves. Someone may be counting on us. Mariko did not make it, but she always had one good person who showed her selfless kindness, which made her smile in all its purity.
The film has a beautiful ending, in which Tomoyo saves a girl named Makio (Kubota Masataka). Shiino becomes uncooperative after falling off and trying to save her, but when she wakes up, she gets a letter from Makio, who thanks her. How can you even make this? It’s already perfect! Wow.
Yuki Tanada did a brilliant job of bringing this story to life, and I’m glad I watched it. I have always been a supporter of mental health, and I know it’s a long road, but maybe this time, I’ll think more than just about myself. Maybe this is what being human is all about. Understanding someone, sharing something, and healing together.
This film helped me understand the world in a light I didn’t think of before, which will stay with me and hopefully make me grow as a person over time.
It’s a beautiful film with a beautiful journey and beautiful cinematography. It was truly a perfect five out of five stars.
I’m thinking of JFF 2024 for curating this film, and if you get a chance to experience it, make sure to check it out!
