The Call Of Zon (ゾンからのメッセージ, Takuji Suzuki, 2018)

The Call of Zon posterWalls – do they constrain or protect? The residents of Yumetoi which has been sealed off for the last two decades by a mysterious force known as “Zon” cannot help but ask themselves the question. No-one claims to know what Zon is or why it arrived, but everyone has their own opinion on its existence from the youngsters brimming with curiosity about what lies outside to the older residents who think perhaps its best not to question the thing which keeps you safe.

Among the curious, intrepid youngster Ippo (Ryudai Takahashi) has got his hands on a videocamera and begun investigating the local environment, venturing well beyond “safe” limits in his quest for truth which is how he encounters the eccentric figure of Kantaro (Shogo Ishimaru) – a strange middle-aged man living in a disused building right next to the Zon barrier. Thanks to Kantaro, Ippo learns that Zon likes to throw things out into the world and is particularly intrigued by a strange black box (it’s a VHS tape but he’s too young to know what that is) he thinks might be some kind of message.

The small town of Yumetoi is a wholesome, nostalgic place filled with happy, innocent people who ostensibly want for nothing. Most of them have become used to Zon and accepted it as their new reality, neither resenting it nor particularly feeling its presence because they have little desire to leave. Others however, like Ippo, are intensely curious and begin to doubt everything they’ve been taught, wondering if Zon is really “dangerous” at all and if what lies outside of its walls really is nothing more than the land of the dead or if a lie has been spun to keep them from venturing forth.

Conceived in the wake of the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, Zon makes a subtle point about invisible barriers and the business of sealing off “unsafe” territory in wondering which side of the wall one is really on. Many residents of Yumetoi, like Kantaro, think Zon keeps them safe from external “evil” (as evidenced by adult magazines, apparently), while Ippo wonders if it might not be the opposite and it’s Zon keeping them prisoner. In any case, he wants to understand the message even others warn him that it’s best not to poke the beast and he’s better to let things lie. Nevertheless, he begins trying to communicate with the strange manifestation of existential dread through its own medium – by sending it video messages asking for greater clarification.

His quest has a profound impact on the town at large and most particularly Kantaro along with his former friend turned creepy cult minister running “rebirth” workshops, Ninomiya (Masahito Karakama). The pair “lost” a friend to Zon when he decided to cross the barrier in search of his own sound never to return. Though many have ventured outside, none have made it back. Some believe they died, others that they merely could not return, but still there are those who wait for them, like Michiko – the owner of Bar Yu who regards it as her calling to provide a place to which those who are lost can return.

Shooting in a constraining 4:3 and heightened colour palate, veteran director Takuji Suzuki adds an unexpectedly meta dimension to his already surreal exploration of physical and mental imprisonment in allowing the film crew to to appear on screen and including scenes of retake and rehearsal. In a roundabout way, the film crew itself becomes a manifestation of “Zon” as it literally captures the dreamy world of Yumetoi from outside as if trapping it in cinematic amber. Zon in itself may be a state of mind, a manifestation of the complex push and pull between the anxious need for safety and natural longing to understand the nature of the world, but it also serves as a literal barrier to transgressive thought as the more conservative residents resent any attempt to question its true purpose while the curious young insist on change and inquiry. The gift of Zon may be a kind of paradise but it’s one that comes at a price that the young are increasingly unwilling to pay. Zon’s message is its own undoing, urging the curious to free themselves from the accepted order by questioning its authority and finally finding the courage to step outside its bounds.


The Call of Zon was screened as part of the 2019 Nippon Connection Film Festival.

Original trailer (no subtitles)

Ambiguous Places (うろんなところ, Akira Ikeda, 2017)

Ambiguous places poster

The world is quite a strange place at the best of times, but for a small collection of people living in between some Ambiguous Places (うろんなところ, Uronna Tokoro) everything seems pretty much normal. Akira Ikeda whose Anatomy of a Paperclip won a Tiger Award at International Film Festival Rotterdam, returns with another surreal tale inspired by the land of dreams. 

Konoko (lit. “this girl”) washes up on a beach trapped in a net and tries to sing but the other people on the beach tell her to stop, because she’s rubbish. Konoko’s other problem is that she’s got a bug stuck in her hair and will need to find a barber to take it out. Travelling with a man whom a strange lady looking for “nuts” on a beach assures her is her dad, Konoko wanders off to look for a hairdresser only to sell her “dad” to a couple of near silent dango makers and then discover that the only barber’s in town is actually a soba shop (which serves udon) and she needs to go the pharmacy only the pharmacist is out at the moment because he had to get some gloves made in celebration of his wife’s pregnancy…

Ambiguous Places is actually a cyclical collection of three stories running more or less concurrently in which the same collection of strange people reappear in different stages of their own adventures. Konoko’s “Meeting Nyoraga” segues into the pharmacist’s odyssey of glove making and forced marriage “Celebrate with Gloves”, and that in turn leads into “Get My Hair Washed” which pops out of the pharmacist’s dream about a girl with foamy hair and features a quest to rid one’s home of scary blue ghosts only to end with everyone sitting down and having dinner together instead.

To begin with everything seems very strange but like the best of dreams it eventually starts to make sense and though there is more than a little violence and hostility, broadly everyone seems to accept things just the way they are. Still, from our point of view this is all terribly surreal. At one point the pharmacist, who has just spent ages having gloves knitted around his hands in a bizarre ritual encounters the man who will later own the dango shop just as he’s carting his wife around covered by a sheet and sitting in a wheel barrow filled with vegetables. The man explains that this is his people’s way of celebrating. The pharmacist looks him dead in the eye and remarks “strange custom”. Well, quite. Mozart’s The Magic Flute also plays a large role in the proceedings in somewhat mangled German with bits of Japanese creeping in until a young lady is forced to have a go after criticising Konoko’s singing and finds she is able to sing the Queen of the Night aria complete with coloratura almost faultlessly.

The atmosphere is indeed dreamlike as the various tales weave in and out of each other with a kind of surreal logic that has its own internal consistency even if it’s quite hard to pin down. Absurd in the extreme, Ikeda opts for deadpan delivery that adds to the bizarre humour and ethereal quality of the strange “ambiguous places” which seem to exist in this odd little seaside town. Yet also like dreams the deeper meaning (if there is any) is hard to discern. Nevertheless, even if it is all random and essentially meaningless, Ambiguous Places is unexpectedly warm and filled with enough zany humour to keep things ticking along even when wondering if one needs to be afraid of the postman or if Nyoraga is really as dangerous as they say…


Streamed via Festival Scope as part of their International Film Festival Rotterdam tie-up.

Original trailer (English subtitles)