Inspired by the ‘Route 29, Liberation’ poetry collection by Taichi Nakao, filmmaker Yusuke Morii took a month-long trip along the eponymous road that connects the cities of Himeji and Tottori in southwestern Japan. The result was a screenplay depicting two women making the same journey, albeit for vastly different reasons and with many obstacles along the way. The antisocial Noriko (Haruka Ayase) is a young cleaner recently diagnosed with a brain tumour, who answers the request of a psychiatric patient she meets at work to bring her 12-year-old daughter for a visit. Haru (Osawa Ichina) is the quirky, similarly isolated girl in question, who goes with Noriko without question, hopping into the orange van she stole from her employer and setting off on what is supposed to be a simple three-hour drive.
But there are a few flaws in Noriko’s plan – namely that she’s failed to get permission to pick up Haru, and after losing their ride to an eccentric car thief, they are forced to make the journey on foot. The snag brings them into contact with other oddballs travelling along the rural Route 29, as well as the lush forests that surround the long stretch of road, and eventually a face from Noriko’s past. It’s a lo-fi take on Paper Moon, replete with a charming performance from the young Osawa Ichina, trading Kansas and Missouri for the riverside tarmac of the Chūgoku region. The cinema of Wes Anderson might also be a source of inspiration – there are plenty of carefully composed wide shots and Morii’s emotionally inarticulate characters speak in offbeat rhythms.
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Among the strangers Noriko and Haru meet during their journey are an unnamed father and son, who have abandoned society to live a simple life in the woods. They share their food with the travellers, reflecting on the anxieties which have led them into the forest; a similarly surreal encounter brings them to a near-silent elderly man who Haru nicknames ‘Gramps’. Such details could easily be dismissed as quirky flourishes, but there’s an earnestness that underwrites Route 29, teamed with Haru’s wide-eyed imagination and the mysterious nature of Noriko herself.
Although Morii’s film feels familiar in its conceit, the specifics are decidedly unique, and the remarkable performances of Ayase and Ichina anchor a story that might otherwise float away. It’s a meandering, lyrical road movie, strange and serene in its conceit and execution, and demonstrates a growing confidence as a filmmaker in Yusuke Morii.
