Taking stock of Japanese cinema at Tokyo… | Little White Lies

Festivals

Tak­ing stock of Japan­ese cin­e­ma at Tokyo Inter­na­tion­al Film Festival

10 Nov 2024

Words by Hannah Strong

Three people, an older man and two younger women, posing in a traditional-looking Japanese interior setting with shelves and artwork on the walls.
Three people, an older man and two younger women, posing in a traditional-looking Japanese interior setting with shelves and artwork on the walls.
The biggest cel­e­bra­tion of cin­e­ma in Japan shows promise as an event in the city’s cul­tur­al calendar.

I should start this dis­patch with a con­fes­sion of my bias: Tokyo is one of my favourite cities in the world. I first vis­it­ed on a solo trip in 2019, and have spent every year since sav­ing to go back. I actu­al­ly was there for four days in April of this year with my sis­ter on hol­i­day, but when the Tokyo Inter­na­tion­al Film Fes­ti­val invit­ed Lit­tle White Lies to vis­it for their 37th edi­tion in Novem­ber, no 14-hour plane jour­ney was going to stand in my way. A daz­zling metrop­o­lis that seems to dwarf Lon­don in scale, ambi­tion, tech­nol­o­gy, and hos­pi­tal­i­ty, Tokyo is a dream loca­tion for a film fes­ti­val, par­tic­u­lar­ly con­sid­er­ing the impact of Japan­ese cin­e­ma on the glob­al film stage.

Yet the Tokyo Inter­na­tion­al Film Fes­ti­val might not be an event that audi­ences out­side of the city’s engaged movie-lov­ing com­mu­ni­ty are famil­iar with. Found­ed in 1985, it’s cer­tain­ly wel­comed some high-pro­file guests to the cap­i­tal, includ­ing Gre­go­ry Peck, Nor­man Jew­i­son, Tom­my Lee Jones and Wim Wen­ders who all served as pre­vi­ous jury pres­i­dents. This year Tony Leung presided over the com­pe­ti­tion delib­er­a­tions, while leg­ends includ­ing John­nie To and Kiyoshi Kura­sawa dropped in for mas­ter­class­es, as the fes­ti­val held its sec­ond edi­tion post-Covid. Based in a hand­ful of cin­e­mas locat­ed in the city’s upmar­ket Gin­za dis­trict, it’s a notably con­ve­nient city fes­ti­val – the venues are all with­in a 10-minute walk of each oth­er – and its late sched­ul­ing in the glob­al release cal­en­dar means the pro­gram­ming team ben­e­fit from being able to screen some fes­ti­val favourites from around the world.

This year, big-tick­et galas includ­ed Pedro Almodóvar’s The Room Next Door, Jesse Eisenberg’s A Real Pain and Mati Diop’s Dahomey, with the world pre­mière of Shi­raishi Kazuya’s samu­rai epic 11 Rebels open­ing the fes­ti­val. For the sake of find­ing a way to con­dense my fes­ti­val into four days, I opt­ed to con­cen­trate on the Japan­ese films across the pro­gramme, which were most­ly found with­in the Nip­pon Cin­e­ma Now’ and Asian Futures’ strands, with the excep­tion of Teki Cometh, Yoshi­da Daihachi’s eerie black-and-white dra­ma which played in com­pe­ti­tion (and swept the board).

Teki Cometh was by far my favourite film I saw at the fes­ti­val – adapt­ed from Tsut­sui Yasutaka’s nov­el of the same name, it’s a haunt­ing char­ac­ter study cen­tred on 77-year-old retiree Gisuke Watan­abe, who spends his days cook­ing, clean­ing and writ­ing, con­tent by the rel­a­tive soli­tude and occa­sion­al social com­mit­ments he has with friends and ex-pupils. What starts as a seem­ing­ly warm por­trait of old age quick­ly becomes some­thing stranger and more inter­est­ing as Gisuke is warned by mys­te­ri­ous emails of an approach­ing ene­my. It’s no sur­prise that the fes­ti­val jury were so tak­en with the film, but it’s par­tic­u­lar­ly pleas­ing to see a Japan­ese fea­ture win the Tokyo Grand Prix, which hasn’t hap­pened since 2005.

Two young people, a woman and a man, sitting on a sandy beach near a lake or sea, surrounded by mountains in the background.

The oth­er Japan­ese films in the main com­pe­ti­tion were Ohku Akiko’s She Taught Me Serendip­i­ty, which proved to be a sweet roman­tic dra­ma about class­mates who fall in love only to expe­ri­ence the inevitable hard­ships that come with romance, and Kataya­ma Shinzo’s sur­re­al erot­ic dra­ma Lust in the Rain, about a love tri­an­gle in 1940s Japan. But there was plen­ty more Japan­ese tal­ent across the festival’s offer­ings, notably in Adachi Mojiri’s The Har­bour Lights, about a third-gen­er­a­tion Kore­an immi­grant strug­gling with her sense of place and iden­ti­ty in Kobe, and in Morii Yusuke’s Route29, about an iso­lat­ed clean­er who ends up on a dis­as­trous road trip with the 12-year-old girl she’s sup­posed to be retriev­ing. Across the fes­ti­val Japan­ese cin­e­ma had a strong pres­ence, though not in the names that many non-Japan­ese audi­ences would recog­nise. It was a rare treat to be able to watch so many films which are sad­ly unlike­ly to be shown out­side their native coun­try – and high­lights the pos­si­bil­i­ties around the world for greater co-pro­gram­ming, where­by fes­ti­vals and dis­trib­u­tors could part­ner up to help films reach wider audi­ences and there­by bring film­mak­ers to entire­ly new audiences.

After all, this is the pur­pose of film fes­ti­vals in my eyes – although the likes of Cannes, Venice and Toron­to are world-famous and pro­vide launch plat­forms for many film­mak­ers, they are still large­ly inac­ces­si­ble and region­al in their pro­gram­ming. There is an entire glob­al net­work of small­er fes­ti­vals around the world that speak direct­ly to film lovers out­side that lim­it­ed bub­ble, and now more than ever, it feels like fos­ter­ing inter­na­tion­al exchange and col­lab­o­ra­tion is the key to not only fes­ti­val suc­cess but build­ing a bet­ter inter­na­tion­al film com­mu­ni­ty. Being wel­comed so enthu­si­as­ti­cal­ly in Tokyo proves that lan­guage is lit­tle bar­ri­er to this. Unit­ed by a love of cin­e­ma (and thanks to the efforts of the incred­i­bly tal­ent­ed sub­ti­tlers and trans­la­tors who make TIFF pos­si­ble for those who don’t speak Japan­ese) it was an hon­our to meet the fes­ti­val team them­selves and some of the many guests from across Japan and Asia who had trav­elled to the city for the festival.

Out­side of the cin­e­ma screens, it goes with­out say­ing that Tokyo is a film lover’s par­adise. Beyond the famous Ghi­b­li Muse­um (which I couldn’t get a tick­et for) there is no short­age of ways for trav­ellers to enter­tain them­selves, from a walk­ing tour of Shibuya’s Tokyo Toi­lets (as seen in Per­fect Days) to a trip to Vin­tage Jin­bo­cho, a shop packed floor-to-ceil­ing with Japan­ese posters, pam­phlets and oth­er cin­e­ma para­pher­na­lia (I snagged a large orig­i­nal Mul­hol­land Dri­ve poster for £50).

If you are plan­ning on mak­ing a trip to Tokyo, it can be easy to opt for April’s cher­ry blos­som sea­son, giv­en the pleas­ant weath­er and stun­ning sights of pink blooms caught in the wind. But the autum­nal skies of late Octo­ber – when TIFF takes place – is an equal­ly allur­ing option, espe­cial­ly when you con­sid­er the wealth of sen­to (pub­lic baths more akin to UK spas) in the city. The fact that you could time your trip to fit in some of the Tokyo Inter­na­tion­al Film Fes­ti­val should be a big plus; this rel­a­tive­ly young fes­ti­val with big ambi­tions and a keen, wel­com­ing team of staff (plus Eng­lish sub­ti­tles for most screen­ings!) seems set to grow in the future.

You might like

Accessibility Settings

Text

Applies the Open Dyslexic font, designed to improve readability for individuals with dyslexia.

Applies a more readable font throughout the website, improving readability.

Underlines links throughout the website, making them easier to distinguish.

Adjusts the font size for improved readability.

Visuals

Reduces animations and disables autoplaying videos across the website, reducing distractions and improving focus.

Reduces the colour saturation throughout the website to create a more soothing visual experience.

Increases the contrast of elements on the website, making text and interface elements easier to distinguish.