Drive My Car

[Sabin]

I almost responded to what you added about Watari, which I *ALMOST* wrote myself that what's meaningful about her backstory is (obviously) the layers being pulled back but also the parallels to Kafuku's wife, but ultimately it just rubbed me the wrong way because it felt so overwritten and I was already at capacity for expository backstory. For example, getting to see the speech-less actress perform at the end is a sight and as I look back on it right now, yes, it's meaningful and beautiful. But watching in the moment, I was just a bit done by that point.

Mister Tee wrote
We all have things we just respond to more or less, beyond the fact of appreciation. My issues with The Power of the Dog prevented me from the enthusiasm some are expressing here -- despite the fact I appreciate its value. When I get around to posting about Pig, you'll find I was less in line with it than your excited response -- even though I was admiring of elements of it. As the man sang, Different strokes. It doesn't get in the way of interesting discussion.

Yup.

[Mister Tee]

FULLY IN SPOILER TERRITORY NOW. THE UNINITIATED SHOULD DEFINITELY STAY AWAY

I like Watari as a character. I was referring mainly to the entirety of Watari's backstory. I'm not convinced that she needed a backstory that involved learning to drive at age 12 by driving her mother back and forth to night clubs AND her death in a landslide that could have been avoided AND her mother having a split personality, the second of which was her only friend on Earth.

I don't see those assorted elements of Watari's backstory as being "AND"'s -- I see them as gradually peeled back layers of a single onion: Watari's mother used her at best as a servant, at worst as a slave, kept in line with abuse; knew on some level this was wrong, so created this alternate personality who could dispense love (I'm not entirely sure the term split personality was meant to be taken as literally clinical; it could just have been Watari's way of separating her mother's non-abusive moments from the rest); Watari knows the abusive side of her mother is a danger to her, so she lets her die -- but she also laments the departure of the part of her that's not, and feels guilt for her role in letting it go.

This is especially resonant because it's akin to Kafuku's situation with his wife: he knows so many awful things about her, things that make him not love her at all -- even though he knows he continues to love her deeply, and that she (in her way) absolutely loves him. She even has an equivalent alternate personality: the person she becomes in sexual ecstasy, who tells stories so intimate, so resonant that she can't afford to remember them afterwards, counting on Kafuku to tell them to her as through a third party. I think of these stories as ways she, in disguised metaphors, explains herself to him, and hopes he understands and forgives her.

The dinner with the speechless actress is quite a nice moment and it's one that got to be shared between Kafuku and Watari. If memory serves, Kafuku first opens up to Watari about his wife after the dinner where the secret about the producer and the speechless actress is revealed.

It's also important (I'm sure you know this; just highlighting) as the first moment he shows any appreciation for Watari. Neither she nor we, till he answers the dinner-table question, have the slightest idea how he feels about this chauffeured situation into which he's been forced. But he lets loose with such a torrent of praise, Watari literally has to get up from the table, as if she can't deal with the intensity of it. It gets a nice stress-relieving laugh when the speechless woman (Kon Yoon-su, if I'm reading the character list correctly) says, Too bad you never say such nice things about your actors. If Kafuku were to be honest, his answer to that would be, I could only say all that because I wasn't speaking to her directly.

Kafuku and Watari then do begin to communicate more directly, and I think it's because they recognize one another as kindred spirits: they're both people with a ton bottled up inside; it takes moments of extremity for them to let things out. Which is very...Chekhovian. I once heard Chekhov's characters described as people with incredibly intense emotions (especially feelings of love) they have no ability to express normally, so, when they do finally let them out, it's in inappropriate/doomed-to-fail ways. The latter portion of Drive My Car is Kafuku and Watari recognizing they can help one another -- Watari says things to Kafuku that, on some level, she has to realize she could say back to herself (she tells Kafuku he needs to accept Oto's behavior on her terms; surely she needs to see the same is true with her vis a vis her mother). The trip to Watari's now-vanished home seems to be an attempt on both their parts to force themselves to face up to the pasts they've been avoiding; they possibly couldn't have done it on their own, but, as a (temporary) team,they can push one another to deal with it.

I had a small issue, early in the film, with the idea of casting the speechless actress. How, I wondered, is the audience supposed to know what she's communicating. It took me watching the final production to fully understand: this was a multi-lingual production to begin with, and people are watching many of the actors translated through titles -- what does it matter if her foreign language is sign language? The power of that final scene from Vanya makes it clear how it could work. Moreover, this is a metaphor that encompasses the entire film: it's about a set of characters who (metaphorically) speak different languages, but who, after proper translation, can learn to communicate and reach some understanding.

The more I write about it, the more it really sounds like a great film. I think it's about great things but I never loved it.

We all have things we just respond to more or less, beyond the fact of appreciation. My issues with The Power of the Dog prevented me from the enthusiasm some are expressing here -- despite the fact I appreciate its value. When I get around to posting about Pig, you'll find I was less in line with it than your excited response -- even though I was admiring of elements of it. As the man sang, Different strokes. It doesn't get in the way of interesting discussion.

[Sabin]

SPOILERS. DON'T READ. FOR REAL.
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Mister Tee wrote
This is a worthy criticism. (SPOILER ALERT) I felt like the biggest mistake the film made was Watari prefacing her story with "I killed my mother". It did too much to banalize her feeling. I'd like to see the film with precisely the same monologue, only with that lead-in line removed; I think audiences would have felt exactly what she articulated in the opening line, but with the benefit of having come to it themselves (and would be wanting to assure her she wasn't to blame).

I don't, though, share your feeling of her being from a different movie. I thought the movie had a broad enough canvas to encompass both their stories (as well as others, like the speechless actress), and the thematic resonance to make them all feel part of the same organic whole by the time film ended. In fact, that's one reason I responded to the film as strongly as I did: I think most movies limit themselves to terrain far too small; I loved seeing a writer/director taking such a big bite.

I like Watari as a character. I was referring mainly to the entirety of Watari's backstory. I'm not convinced that she needed a backstory that involved learning to drive at age 12 by driving her mother back and forth to night clubs AND her death in a landslide that could have been avoided AND her mother having a split personality, the second of which was her only friend on Earth. That to me felt like an idea from a different film, especially considering what the film is ultimately saying about Kafuku's biggest problem which is that he does/did his wife a disservice by cataloging her heart as a mysterious and unknowable. Drive My Car is saying that other people aren't unknowable. We make them unknowable. People just... are. Kafuku's wife slept with other men and she loved him. That's it. He could have confronted her, maybe they could've moved on, but he didn't. The film certainly doesn't support her choices but it's easily more critical of Kafuku's choices because what Kafuku is doing is not a way to live. All of which to say (sorry that was roundabout), the increasingly melodramatic layers to Watari's backstory just seem a bit fake.

I do like the broadness of the canvas but it always feels as though it's organized around Kafuku's journey towards healing. The dinner with the speechless actress is quite a nice moment and it's one that got to be shared between Kafuku and Watari. If memory serves, Kafuku first opens up to Watari about his wife after the dinner where the secret about the producer and the speechless actress is revealed. The film also implies that secrets are an antagonistic force and outing them is healing. Drive My Car may be melancholy but it's hopeful in its vision of theater as a unifying force across languages.

The more I write about it, the more it really sounds like a great film. I think it's about great things but I never loved it.

[Mister Tee]

Reza, from what you say, this movie is unlikely to be on your wavelength in the best of circumstances, but I will say that the style of the film makes it a singularly bad fit for watching at home with all the distractions inherent (including the ability to shut off the film at will).

But then the movie abandons intriguing emotional avoidance in favor of just spraying their issues out in soap opera geysers of exposition, some of which I truly questioned whether or not was necessary. Especially Watari the driver's past. She occasionally feels as though she's from another film.

This is a worthy criticism. (SPOILER ALERT) I felt like the biggest mistake the film made was Watari prefacing her story with "I killed my mother". It did too much to banalize her feeling. I'd like to see the film with precisely the same monologue, only with that lead-in line removed; I think audiences would have felt exactly what she articulated in the opening line, but with the benefit of having come to it themselves (and would be wanting to assure her she wasn't to blame).

I don't, though, share your feeling of her being from a different movie. I thought the movie had a broad enough canvas to encompass both their stories (as well as others, like the speechless actress), and the thematic resonance to make them all feel part of the same organic whole by the time film ended. In fact, that's one reason I responded to the film as strongly as I did: I think most movies limit themselves to terrain far too small; I loved seeing a writer/director taking such a big bite.

[Sabin]

It never jumped out to me as more than "good" to "very good," except during the backseat conversation which Tee mentions which is transformative and powerful. The strongest thing about the film is the way that people (mainly Kafuku) act in ways that even they don't entirely understand, which is entirely appropriate about a story that views the heart as something mysterious and unknowable. The relationship between Kafuku and Takatsuki is very compelling as you just... wait... for something to happen. But then the movie abandons intriguing emotional avoidance in favor of just spraying their issues out in soap opera geysers of exposition, some of which I truly questioned whether or not was necessary. Especially Watari the driver's past. She occasionally feels as though she's from another film. But if you're going to go that route, yes, the film goes on too long.

I can see some of what Tee is talking about in its myriad of conflicts and relationships creating a Renoir-like map of the human condition but it didn't come into view enough for me. I'll also say that I could see a viewer finding the opening forty minutes to be quite disorienting as it presents a series of specific marital routines that we do not fully grasp until later. I can't say that I was instantly captivated but I was there for the ride.

Anyway, it's certainly a good film but I didn't find it to be a great one. Where I have no reservation is Hidetoshi Nishijima's performance which was justly lauded for Best Actor by The National Society of Film Critics. As I look back on his filmography, I don't believe I've ever seen him before but he's incredible.

It's a good film. People should see it. Don't totally understand the raves.

[Reza]

I really, REALLY wanted to see this movie exactly through your eyes, Mister Tee, especially after reading your bit below. I actually started this movie sometime ago and gave up at the 30 minute mark. It just did NOT grab my attention. So I began again but from where I left off. It must be a cultural thing I suppose. We, like the Italians, are loud and gregarious with our emotions, wearing every bit proudly (and did I say loudly) on our sleeve. Here everyone is too deadpan and serene with internalized feelings. Very anal. And I've now reached beyond the 90 minute mark and it just drones on and on. I want to scream at these characters to amp up the volume a bit and none of the characters are compelling. I felt like the main character during the sex scene. Totally aloof while his wife was busy fucking him. And those endless scenes around the table in rehearsal of the play. Pure torture.

Maybe the film will pick up after the next 90 minutes? I suppose one must sit through it as it appears it may well get nods next month.

[Mister Tee]

I have no problem understanding why the major critics' groups were unanimous in honoring this film. It makes everything else I've seen this season feel puny. After a year -- no, two years -- of disappointment, finally a full, nourishing meal of a movie.

And I do say "movie" advisedly, because I don't see this as some rarefied art object -- to me, it's a fully accessible, deeply felt narrative. I thought of Renoir a number of times while watching: for the clarity matched to sympathy Hamaguchi shows for his characters, but also for the simple fact that the film, like Renoir's best, is a work of art, but speaks the common story-telling language of mainstream film. I've read some reviews that complain of the three hours being a slog, but I simply don't see that. Apart from thinking the film could have ended a scene or two earlier, I found it wholly engaging from the start -- and thought it built to unexpected emotional heights that often took my breath away.

I've read several Murakami books, but not the one on which this was based. I think I'm glad I hadn't; from what readers are saying about the book, it dealt with the material in a far different way, and might have spoiled some dramatic high points for this version. On screen, it's a movie that starts out being about a marriage, and, in some ways, ends as one, as well. But, along the way, it takes other tacks: the bulk of the story concerns the rehearsal period for a multi-lingual production of Uncle Vanya. But the film is also something of a road movie -- first on a road that loops back and forth, then on one that travels into the past to confront buried secrets, and finally one that leads to a hopeful future. Above all, the film deals with relationships: between husband and wife; parent and child; actor and director; chauffeur and passenger -- in the process showing us how one flows over into the next. I don't want to spoil any element of the story, but there's one scene in the film's final third, a back seat conversation in a car, that encompasses several of these elements, and is the most powerful, staggeringly beautiful thing I've seen in a film since I can't remember when.

The script, on the whole, is pretty gorgeous, but the film is also memorable visually -- a shot of two characters saluting the sky with cigarettes a personal favorite, but, throughout, I had a sense of a director who always knew where to point his camera, and when to cut a scene. This is just an exquisite piece of filmmaking, an absolute triumph for Hamaguchi (and his actors). I take okri's point that most of the subtitled directors who've had AMPAS nominations in recent years have had reputations that preceded their particular nominated film. But I think this is such a singular creation that I'd be surprised if the directors' branch didn't take to it in a big way.

NOTE: I'm open to talking about the film in a fuller way when others have seen it. At this point, I don't want to spoil it for those who haven't yet partaken of it.