The occasion for the get-together is the 12th anniversary of the death of the family's oldest son, Junpei, who died when he saved a drowning victim but ended up drowning himself. Losing his heir, and the son who would perhaps have taken over his medical practice, father Kyohei (Yoshi Harada), now retired, is bitter and resentful toward the world. He's also cold to his less successful number two son Ryo (Hiorshi Abe), whose career as a painting restorer has stalled and worse, who has married a widow, Yukari (Yui Natsukawa), with a young son, Atsushi (Sohei Tanaka). Not quite estranged from the family, Ryo is an infrequent and reluctant visitor, afraid of the constant comparisons to his dead brother and his father's passive-aggressive scorn.
Mother Toshiko (Kirin Kiki), who bustles in the kitchen with her fun and flaky daughter Chinami (You), seems sweet on the surface, but she, too, is a master of the slightly disguised undermining insult, a skill honed by 40 years of constant bickering with her husband and augmented by the undercurrent of grief she feels for her lost son.
On a hot summer day they all gather (Chinami's husband and two noisy kids are also there) for lunch, dinner, and a visit to Junpei's grave. Throughout the languid afternoon, Ryo struggles to keep his resentment in check as his gentle wife quietly urges him to reach out to his father. As he wanders the house, Ryo sees reminders of Junpei here and there and also notes small details like a newly installed bathroom safety rail and loose bathtub tiles that subtly remind him that time may be running out to achieve détente with his parents.
In one excruciating scene, the family invites the young man Junpei saved over to pay his annual respects. Now 25, unemployed, fat, sweaty, and clumsy, he expresses his yearly thanks for his life, but Kyohei and Toshiko can barely hide their contempt: Their son died so this loser could live? When Ryo suggests they should stop inviting him every year because it embarrasses him and is cruel, Toshiko says that's the whole idea. She needs someone to hate. It's a shocking little revelation from the gentle woman.
Such revelations abound. Every second of the film tingles with tension backed up by brilliant acting. Movie buffs will notice parallels to the work of the great Japanese master Yasujiro Ozu, whose family dramas of the '40s and '50s cover some of the same territory of parent-child disconnection. There's also a touch of Bergman-style family angst here, and in the tale of the drowned golden boy and the surviving son, even a little bit of Ordinary People.
Koreeda is magician-like in his ability to make the tiniest detail -- a butterfly, a flower, a glass of iced tea, a glance -- seem huge. He is without a doubt one of the world's most sensitive filmmakers, and his powers, as seen in films such as After Life, Nobody Knows, Hana, and now Still Walking, are peaking.
Aka Aruitemo aruitemo.
I'm walkin', here!
