THE TRUTH opens -- and a super-starry French film directed by Kore-Eda Hirokazu arrives

Kore-Eda Hirokazu's first film not in his own Japanese language (so far as I know), THE TRUTH -- not to be confused with the old Henri-Georges Clouzot film with Brigitte Bardot -- is spoken in mostly French with some English by actors as diverse as Catherine Deneuve, Juliette Binoche and Ethan Hawke, all of whom are fine and dandy -- as is this lovely film itself.

One of the "family reunion" variety, as have been a number of Kore-Eda's movies -- granted, sometimes in rather unusual ways -- The Truth involves a grand dame of French cinema named Fabienne (Ms Deneuve), now at what may be the end of her career, and a visit from her daughter Lumir (Ms Binoche) who is a screenwriter working in the USA, from whom she has long been at least slightly estranged; her son-in-law Hank, a somewhat successful Hollywood actor played by Mr. Hawke; and her delightful little granddaughter, Charlotte (the young actress Clémentine Grenier, making her film debut, whom I hope we'll be seeing soon again).

While many of the family-inspired themes here are familiar from Kore-Eda's other work (the filmmaker is shown at left, with his young co-star, Ms Grenier) as well as from other "family" pix, his main theme most likely is that age-old question, "What is the truth?", particularly where families are concerned. His answer, which takes several twists and turns during the course of the movie, is a cautious, malleable and not particularly easy one. And this -- along with a group of performances that could hardly be bettered in terms of each one finding the "truth" at the heart of his or her character -- makes for the kind of movie-going experience that charms and entertains, even as it raises questions about family (and extended family) that are always worth considering.

There are a couple of delicious sub-plots here, too: One involves a movie currently being shot that stars Fabienne, along with a young actress who looks and acts remarkably like another long-dead actress from Fabienne's past; the other is the publication of Fabienne's memoirs, a book chock full of what daughter Lumir sees as either outright lies or those occasioned simply via omission. All this is gracefully woven together with the filmmaker's expected consummate skill. Look for some very special actors -- Ludivine Sagnier and Roger Van Hool among them -- popping up in nice supporting roles, too.
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What seems especially impressive is how well Kore-Eda adjusts to both French culture and the (sort-of) intrusion of America -- via Hawke and Hollywood -- into his mix. You will probably leave The Truth feeling pleasantly sufficed without any sense of having been over-awed or knocked for a loop. Yet the ideas and characters here may linger awhile, as you think about your own family -- blood and extended -- along with the notion of what movies (even the sad, possibly quite moving little sci-fi flick within this movie) are capable of achieving. Kore-Eda's usual lesson-- consider every viewpoint --  is brought home beautifully once again.

From IFC Films, in French with English subtitles and running 106 minutes, the film opens in select theaters and via digital streaming and cable VOD this Friday, July 3. Click here for more information on how and where to find (and see) The Truth.

A murder mystery from Hirokazu Kore-eda? Yes, as THE THIRD MURDER opens in theaters

Really? A murder mystery from Hirokazi Kore-eda, the fellow who has made all those wonderful Japanese films about family and relationships and philosophy and responsibility? Yes.

And THE THIRD MURDER is indeed about family and relationships and philosophy and responsibility. And also, especially, about justice, motive and character --  that last in every sense that you can imagine for this hugely encompassing word.

Mr. Hirokazu, pictured at right, whose classic Maborosi (the new Blu-ray release of which TrustMovies covered only last week) rather set the Japanese standard for films concerning all of the above themes, has now taken those themes and applied them to the murder mystery genre.

The results will most likely please his current fans a good deal more than they may satisfy those who expect anything remotely like a conventional murder mystery.

The Third Murder begins in a dark and deserted field at night in which a rather grizzly murder (followed by a cremation) takes place. Thanks to Hirokazu's skill and subtlety, sound effects jar us more than the visuals.

It seems clear from the beginning exactly who the murderer is. But who he is in terms of his character and why he has done the deed remain murky yet continually compelling. And Kôji Yakusho, above, who plays this very unusual role is equally compelling.

We learn something of the Japanese justice system, meet friends and family of the victim, as well as of that of murderer's defense attorney (Masaharu Fukuyama, above) -- who initially does not want this case but slowly grows closer and closer to the man he is defending.

What is learned about the victim will hardly ingratiate the guy to viewers, and once we've met his sleazy wife and hugely troubled daughter, this third murder begins to become as understandable as the first two, which we learn of in the course of the investigation.

Still, this is murder, and so justice must be served. But how? The defense attorney's father (above, who is himself a judge) offers one solution, but his son keeps soldiering on, hoping for a way to get his client a life sentence (or less) rather than death.

Religious motifs -- yes, that cross (seen above and below) -- figure in prominently,

as do dead birds, a thank-you note and peanut butter. Motives are mulled over and seem initially promising but then unclear, while truth, as ever, is utterly elusive.

Toward the finale, there is a scene of such supreme visual power, depth and even a weird kind of suspense as our two heroes come as close as possible to "joining."

Now, I have seen this kind of visual done previously on a number of occasions, but never as well as here. The sense of separate entities trying their best to understand each other and become one has rarely been brought to such vibrant, emotional and philosophic life.

If you are in the market for any cut-and-dried procedural or even a mystery with some sort of surprise finale, better look elsewhere. But if the ever-amazing and endlessly engaging ideas of family as both salvation and hell, justice as an elusive goal worth pursuing, and character as something that evolves rather than springs fully formed from DNA, then The Third Murder might just be your cup of chrysanthemum tea.

From Film Movement and running 124 minutes, the movie opens in New York City this Friday, July 20, at the Quad Cinema and on August 3 in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal, with other cities to follow in the weeks and months to come.

MABOROSI: Early, much-loved movie from Hirokazu Kore-eda gets Blu-ray/DVD debut

I first encountered the work of Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda (shown below) via his marvelous After Life, a bizarre, philosophic and enchantingly original riff on the post-death experience. Since then I've seen each of his subsequent films (those released here in the USA, at least) and enjoyed every one of them. Yet the movie that brought him to international attention -- MABOROSI, his first narrative film released in 1995, three years prior to After Life -- I am only now catching up with, due to its at last getting a Blu-ray/DVD release, thanks to Milestone Films.

The film is worth the wait. Not surprisingly Maborosi, which refers to a kind of strange light sometimes seen at sea, deals with so many of the themes that are clearly important to its director: family, loss, love and responsibility. Even more interestingly, TrustMovies thinks, is that fact that all these themes are dealt with in a manner even more graceful, subtle and quiet than in any of Hirokazu's later films (which are themselves pretty graceful, subtle and quiet).

While the director usually writes his original screenplays (or occasionally bases one on a manga), with Maborosi, he worked from a screenplay by Yoshihita Ogita (adapted from the novel by Teru Miyamoto). Whether he was deliberately more careful in adhering to the screenplay or it simply worked out this way, his movie is almost exquisitely calm, composed, placid and beautiful.

In telling a tale of disappearance and death, family and obligation, the director makes a rare visual poetry out of loss, grief and only very painful, difficult renewal.

Beginning with the disappearance of a much loved grandmother (above) and then all too soon the apparent suicide of a beloved husband and best friend (below), our heroine, Yumiko (Makiko Esumi), barely able to shoulder the co-responsibility of caring for a young child before her loss, now is forced to do it all nearly alone.

Still, new life beckons, and Yumiko accepts it, as a new husband and his daughter joins her and her little son, bringing them to a small, strange and beautiful -- if pretty desolate -- seaside town.

The movie relies even more on its visuals than on its rather sparse dialog to guide us along, and because those visuals are so beautifully composed (the cinematography is by Nasao Nakabori), we follow effortlessly. And though we are told of those illusory seafaring lights, the film itself is so full of odd, dark and beautiful lighting effects (as above and below) that it very nearly becomes its own "Maborosi."

Our heroine (as well as we viewers) wants nothing more than explanation. We expect that things -- important things -- will be revealed. Nothing ever is. Perhaps that is the point: Nothing conclusive can be revealed.

Yes, the past is always present and always will be -- until memory leaves us. The point is not allowing that past to engulf us but rather moving ahead. All of the filmmaker's work seems to underscore this. The beauty and poetry he gives us in the process is what makes that work so special.

From The Milestone Cinematheque and running 110 minutes. Maborosi arrives on Blu-ray/DVD  this coming Tuesday, July 10 -- for purchase and (I hope) rental.

Hirokazu Kore-eda's latest, AFTER THE STORM, opens in New York via Film Movement

For those of us who love the work of Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda, the chance to see another of his graceful, beautiful explorations of family connection and growth will not go unattended. In the last couple of Hirokazu's films that TrustMovies has seen, however --  Our Little Sister and his latest, AFTER THE STORM -- it seems to me that the slow pace is slackening even further, while any surprise has gone almost completely missing. While these elements might be deal-breakers for some movie-makers, where Hirokazu is concerned, they don't matter so much. This is due to the rich, human detail he always provides regarding his main characters. You come away from his films steeped in the many individual idiosyncrasies of character, as well as a greater understanding and appreciation of the culture at large.

There is also a grand sense of kindness experienced here, both from the individuals shown and via directorial intent. This is not to say that the people we meet are all good and sweet all the time. Hardly. Our main character here, Dad, played Hiroshi Abe (below, of Hirokazu's I Wish and Still Walking), is a novelist with writer's block who now works as a sleazy private detective, catching husbands or wives in extra-marital affairs to pay his bills (which he rarely seems able to pay, in any case). He is also not above selling out his client, if he can make some extra money off the spouse. Yeah: nice.

This guy also loves to gamble, much to the consternation of his ex and his mother, each of whom is brought to lovely life respectively by Yôko Maki (shown below, of Like Father, Like Son) and Kirin Kiki (of Sweet Bean), shown further below. Both actresses bring such truth and concern to their characters that they help keep the movie on track, given Dad's consistently bad behavior.

In fact, the movie threatens to go off the track, due to Dad, who seems so unable to change, learn or grow in a better direction that, given what you know from Kirokakzu's other films, his "turnaround" is simply going to be unbelievable: too much too late. Stick with After the Storm, though, because the filmmaker manages, as usual, to give us growth in such tiny but smart increments that we not only buy it, we finally revel in it.

There is one scene in particular, in which the poignancy of a failed marriage that both participants -- plus offspring and older generation --want to see repaired is captured with such beauty, sadness and delicacy that, all on its own, it makes the movie worth seeing.

Hirozaku is also finely attuned to the manner in which that apple never falls far from its tree (we learn quite a lot about the recently deceased grandfather, too). Yet in this filmmaker's world, both apple and tree are decidedly mixed bags -- plenty of negatives but some redeeming positives in the mix -- from which Dad's young son (a very good performance by a young actor, above, left, whose name I am not certain of) will also grow and change.

The film is firmly anchored by the excellent performance from Mr. Hiroshi (above and below), a tall, rangy, immensely sexy actor with charisma to spare. Watching him repeatedly fuck up and then try to make up for this, will keep you alternately annoyed and hopeful, desolate and delighted. He is a pleasure to watch in action or repose -- as is, finally, the movie itself.

From Film Movement and running a lengthy but packed-with-detail 117 minutes, After the Storm opens this Friday, March 17, in New York City at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema and the IFC Center, Here in South Florida, it opens on Friday, April 7, at the Living Room Theaters, Boca Raton; the Tower Theater, Miami; and at the Miami Beach Cinematheque. To see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters listed, click here and scroll down.

Difficult family dynamics, Japanese-style: Hirokazu Kore-eda's LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

The old switched-at-birth routine (Angel of Mine, The Other Son) gets an anything-but-routine telling via Japanese auteur Hirokazu Kore-eda's latest and maybe loveliest film, LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON. Even when his subjects grow as bizarre (an inflatable plastic doll come to life) or heart-breaking (how an abandoned family of children try to care for each other), as in After-Life and Air Doll, it's this film-maker's consistent ability to give us such real and specific behavior, in the midst of whatever kind of life is going on, that always seals the deal. Hirokazu (shown below) is the real thing and there is no one quite like him working in film today. His new movie -- a tear-jerker that earns the workout it will give your lacrimal sac -- does not disappoint.

The filmmaker is noted for the fine performances he seems to always get from his child actors, and he certainly does it again here, though he draws equally wonderful ones from the adults on hand. As Hirokazu has matured (he's 51 now), he seems more and more drawn to stories that resonant over generations and fairly wide-ranging themes -- from divorce and separa-tion to coming to terms with anger, forgiveness, parents who don't seem to care, even death.

In Like Father, Like Son, he is dealing with several of the above themes, as well as with the old nature-vs-nurture controversy, along with the workplace and class differences in a way that I have not noticed as strongly in his previous work. This makes his movie all the richer.

In the film, a workaholic dad (the marvelously subtle actor, Masaharu Yukuhama, above) -- who would seem, on the face of the first couple of scenes, to have a somewhat idyllic life with his lovely wife andchild -- learns that his son is not his biological flesh-and-blood, after all.

When the family finally meets the other family (above) who has raised its actual son, just as it has raised the other boy, it is clear that there is a huge difference here in everything from income to education. Most city-dwelling sophisticates will, I think, identity much more with the initial family, but Hirokazu doesn't let us off the hook nearly so easily. At first, the new family seems crass --particularly the father (above, left). But as the film flows along, this dad grows on us even more than does his wealthier counterpart.

The moms bond more easily, as women often do, I think, and even the two dads try their best. (The Japanese proclivity for civility seems so very helpful here.) What about the kids themselves? As usual, the filmmaker gets striking performances from the children (shown above and below), and we begin to see that in some ways, both sons are like fish out of water, while in other ways , they've adapted quite well.

But how will the parents adapt to all this? And what is the best way to proceed? This is key, and Hirokazu follows things along part of the way, until we understand that the dad with the biggest problem is at least trying. Will he make it all the way?  Time'll tell, and I'm glad that the filmmaker didn't tie up everything too neatly.

Instead he gives us that wonderfully real behavior, from all concerned. Watching this is a pleasure in its own right, but it also helps us follow and believe in the changes that occur, especially in our troubled company/family man.

From Sundance Selects and running two hours, Like Father, Like Son opens this Friday, January 17, in New York City at the IFC Center and Lincoln Plaza Cinema. The following Friday, January 24, it will open at Laemmle's Royal and Playhouse 7. The film will also be available nationwide on Sundance Selects’ video-on-demand platform, available to over 50 million homes in all major markets.