by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
When I saw Monster at the Chicago International Film Festival, interest was very high, as it was one of few screenings that had a sold out auditorium. It’s a testament to how far word of mouth can go in building that level of hype. But at the end of the day, a film has to speak for itself in whatever it strives to accomplish. Whether that’s attaining critical acclaim, grasping a sense of rewatchability, or capturing an emotional response from the viewer, it’s up to the filmmakers’ vision to see that end through. Director Kore-eda Hirokazu achieves all three with relative ease. Monster not only reaches the high expectations I had going in, but completely supersedes them. While my history with Kore-eda doesn’t extend any further beyond his Palme d’Or winning film, Shoplifters,and his other most recent outing, Broker, Monster completes a trifecta of filmmaking prowess that cannot be denied. I’m hard pressed to come up with a handful of directors from this calendar year who were able to spearhead their projects as gracefully and effortlessly as Kore-eda does here. It’s without question one of the best directorial feats of 2023.
When a young boy begins exhibiting some bizarre behavioral changes, his single mother is pointed in the direction of her son’s teacher as the root cause, as she seeks to uncover what is happening to her son. That’s what is at the core of the story Kore-eda and screenwriter Yûji Sakamoto tell here. An intriguing enough premise that enticed my curiosity. If there’s one piece of advice I could give to anyone who’s going to see this movie, it would be to be willing to go along with where the story is trying to lead you. Approaching any film with a clear head sounds ideal to me when managing your own expectations. But with this film in particular, there’s much to dissect regarding how it is written, and what exactly is trying to be conveyed. There are some engaging questions posed about the nature of monsters themselves. How do adults perceive monsters as opposed to children? What does a monster in the real world even resemble? What is a monster? Answers are kept vague at best, but that specific notion is ingrained in the fabric of the film. That’s nothing new if you’re familiar with the mystery genre, but what expands that feeling even further is the structure that’s used. The picture has three lead characters, who each get the chance to have the story unfold through their perspective. By way of the mother character, Saori (Sakura Ando) arrives at the story with means of protecting what she loves, and does so by navigating a minefield of perplexity. In the case of the teacher, Mr. Hori (Eita Nagayama) takes a more reactionary position in the narrative, all the while being given the time to invest in his desire for transparency amidst a system that fails to protect him. Though similarities are shared between Saori and Mr. Hori, the heart of the film truly lies with Saori’s son, Minato (Soya Kurokawa). Not only does Kurokawa’s understated performance steal the movie, there’s a unique character dynamic he has with another actor which rivals any relationship I’ve seen in ages.
If there were a fourth character who stood to share equal footing with Saori, Minato, and Mr. Hori, it would be Yori (Hinata Hiiragi), who isn’t afforded the privilege of telling his own story, unlike the other leads. But that doesn’t ultimately affect the importance of his characterization, given how much screen time he shares opposite Minato. In that way, his presence is often felt, despite his limited inclusion in the Saori and Hori portions of the story. The time spent with Yori and Minato is made all the more pivotal by bringing home the themes of the movie. Kore-eda goes above and beyond to expand upon the questions he poses about monsters by interweaving ideas about the reasons used to birth suspicion and one’s inability to understand another person. These aspects of the story, which add a certain prescience to the picture, were not lost on me personally. The final ingredients which contribute to these points are the relationships built with two supporting characters. With the introduction of Yori’s father, Kiyotaka (Shidô Nakamura), there are interesting comparisons to be made between the parent-child relationship of him and Yori, and Saori and Minato. This is done in the vein of furthering the monster metaphor, and it should be no surprise that this, too, is executed smashingly. On the more mysterious side of things, the inclusion of the school principal, Makiko (Yûko Tanaka), who works alongside Mr. Hori, is rife for similar thoughts. This, however, is presented differently than Kiyotaka. Makiko’s position in this story falls under the purview of the film for which there are no clear answers to take from her subplot. From my point of view, that is certainly the case for the majority of the movie. There is a point, however, when the penny finally drops, and a side plot of Makiko that only tangentially affects the main narrative takes shape in a much deeper way than initially perceived. The results of which are pure and utter devastation. It’s here that I came to realize the degree to which Kore-eda doesn’t take the audience’s intelligence for granted, as he is quite forthright in how he presents information. In doing so, he captures the viewer’s attention for the entirety of the runtime, and never once loses sight of it. And when this is the kind of story you’re telling, that’s downright necessary.
Surrounding this masterfully crafted movie are poetic touches akin to the style Kore-eda specializes in. While he is also the credited editor of the picture, Kore-eda still has some help in another important department. Special mention should be directed towards the composer of the film, Ryuichi Sakamoto. The film is actually dedicated to his memory, as he had passed away earlier this year. While a bit scant throughout, the score quietly does a wonderful job of enhancing the moments that benefit from an added garnish of emotion. This extends to both ends of the spectrum in regards to how the film is trying to have the viewer feel at any given moment. Whether it’s a bleak or joyous scene, Sakamoto offers firm ground for the actors and the writing to shine brightly. With shades of ominous undertones, the film veers hardly at all from the mood Kore-eda sets with his two previously aforementioned films. In my mind, what that is, exactly, can essentially be described as a setting grounded entirely in normalcy, but often with a degree of mystery, either alluding to, or at times directly addressing, something much darker. The only differing factor here is there’s a bit of fantasy infused into an otherwise straight laced drama. While it could be up for debate if that choice enhances the movie in any major sense given these fantastical elements are quite sparse, it’s a change I definitely appreciate for a number of reasons. Given that the main reason deals directly with the ending, I’ll steer clear of that except for one ancillary point that needs mentioning.
A common thread I found in the three films I caught from this year’s festival which emanate from Japan (Monster, alongside Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days and Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Evil Does Not Exist) is their knack for ambiguous endings. All three of these films resolve on such a non-definitive note. That’s at least the case when observing them on a pure surface level. If you choose to look a bit deeper at what preceded those endings, however, you’ll find answers resulting in differing emotions depending on your personal sensibilities. In my case, there was a bit of despondency in my reactions to all three, but it’s the glimmer of etherealness with Monster that tows it over the line as a beautiful triumph which leaves me remembering its tenderness, instead of its emotional abrasions. I can think of no other working director who truly encapsulates the beauty of being human, while also leaving the audience with an important message that I dare not spoil.
Rating: Loved It