A well-meaning social worker finds himself dragged into an exploitative yakuza scam after trying to expose a colleague’s misconduct in Hideo Jojo’s adaptation of the novel by Somei Tamehito, A Bad Summer (悪い夏, Warui Natsu). Sasaki’s (Takumi Kitamura) colleagues are beginning to doubt he has what it takes for the job primarily because he is “too nice” and has trouble dealing with those who, to his superiors at least, are obviously misusing the system to claim benefits they aren’t entitled to. According to his hard-nosed colleague Miyata (Marika Ito), social welfare exists for those who find themselves “unavoidably” thrown into dire living conditions, which necessarily implies a degree of moral judgement on her part, while Sasaki is it seems keener to give people the benefit of the doubt and wants to try to help them even if it turns out they have been defrauding him.
“We must survive as bulwarks against moral decay,” Miyata intones, somewhat ironically, while pointing out that people who misuse the system make everything more difficult for “honest” clients. Sasaki later asks what exactly her morality is, but all she says is that the rules are the rules and any breach of them should be punished. The real world, however, is rarely so black and white. The truth is that it’s become too difficult to survive in this capitalistic society and a regular job alone no longer pays enough to support a single person let alone a family.
While Sasaki falls deeper into an abyss of exploitation, a widowed single mother struggles to find a job while caring for her son that will keep them fed and a roof over their head. A woman at the factory where she eventually finds employment tells her about the welfare system, but she says she feels bad about taking other people’s money. That she later succumbs to shoplifting out of desperation suggests it was more the shame, humiliation, and stigma that kept her from applying. When she does eventually ask for help, she finds Sasaki in a downward spiral shouting at her for being an irresponsible mother and emphasising that benefits are only for those who’ve exhausted all other options, which she of course has, but is still made to feel like criminal just for reaching out. Though she is a prime example of the people they exist to help, Sasaki turns his back on her with potentially tragic consequences.
Other people had suggested to the widow that she simply remarry, laying bare to the extent to which women are still expected to remain economically dependent on men even in the 21st century. Another single mother, 22-year-old Aimi (Yumi Kawai), was convinced to apply for benefits by her friend Rika (Yumena Yanai), a bar hostess in a similar situation, but is sexually exploited by her case worker Takano (Katsuya Maiguma) who threatens to expose that she’s been working more ours than permitted meaning her benefits would stop. It’s also Rika who convinces her to get her yakuza boyfriend Ryu (Masataka Kubota) involved to sort out Takano, but he has another clever plan to use Takano as part of a popular yakuza scam in which they round up homeless people who may not know the benefits system exists and get them to apply so they can take most of their money while housing them in shelters they own. The plan is foiled when Miyata claims to have received a tip-off about Tanako exploiting his clients and enlists Sasaki to help investigate.
Sasaki seems genuinely interested in Aimi’s welfare along with that of her five-year-old daughter Misora which makes him the target of a side scam being run by Yamada (Pistol Takehara), one of his own clients who’s been fraudulently claiming on the grounds of an old back injury. The tragic thing is that Aimi, who seems to have had a disordered childhood herself, positively responds to the compassionate care offered by Sasaki who drifts into a relationship with her that is romantic and borderline inappropriate, though he is not her social worker and hasn’t done anything wrong. Aimi begins to see a more settled, ordinary life for herself which is eventually disrupted by destructive force of yakuza violence as Ryu forces Sasaki to process claims for the homeless people he’s exploiting.
The wretchedness of his situation begins to destroy Sasaki’s integrity, which was according to Miyata their only real weapon against those who cheat the system. Unable to tell whether Aimi’s feelings for him were ever genuine, something she isn’t entirely sure of either, he sinks into a moral abyss having become all too aware of the chain of exploitation which exists in the contemporary society. The farcical, expressionist conclusion may signify that even when you fight back, nothing really changes and the only people who lose out are the most vulnerable, but there does at least seem to be a better life in sight for Aimi and Misora having escaped at least of the forces which were constraining them.
A Bad Summer screens as part of this year’s Japan Foundation Touring Film Programme.
In the brave new Netflix era, perhaps it’s not unusual to hear someone exclaim that their most significant relationship is with their television, but most people do not mean it as literally as Haruko, the heroine of the self titled Haruko’s Paranormal Laboratory (春子超常現象研究所, Haruko Chojogensho Kenkyujo). Lisa Takeba returns with her second film which proves to be just as strange and quirky as the first and all the better for it. Haruko’s world is a surreal one in which a TV coming to life is perfectly natural, as is the widespread plague of “artistic” behaviour which involves robbing the local 100 yen store for loose change and randomly setting fire to things. Yet Haruko’s problems are the normal ones at heart – namely, loneliness and disconnection. Takeba’s setting may be a strange fever dream filled with fiendishly clever, zany humour but the fear and anxiety are all too real.
Fear of “broadcasting” is a classic symptom of psychosis, but supposing there really was someone who could hear all your thoughts as clearly as if you’d spoken them aloud, how would that make you feel? The shy daydreamer at the centre of The Kodai Family (高台家の人々, Kodaike no Hitobito) is about to find out as she becomes embroiled in a very real fairytale with a handsome prince whose lifelong ability to read minds has made him wary of trying to form genuine connections with ordinary people. Walls come down only to jump back up again when the full implications become apparent but there are taller walls to climb than that of discomfort with intimacy including snobby mothers and class based insecurities.
Times change so quickly. The “danchi” was a symbol of post-war aspiration and rising economic prosperity as it sought to give young professionals an affordable yet modern, convenient way of life. The term itself is a little hard to translate though loosely enough just means a housing estate but unlike “The Projects” (団地, Danchi) of the title, these are generally not areas of social housing or lower class neighbourhoods but a kind of vertical village which one should never need to leave (except to go to work) as they also include all the necessary amenities for everyday life from shops and supermarkets to bars and restaurants. Nevertheless, aspirations change across generations and what was once considered a dreamlike promise of futuristic convenience now seems run down and squalid. Cramped apartments with tiny rooms, washing machines on the balconies, no lifts – young people do not see these things as convenient and so the danchi is mostly home to the older generation, downsizers, or the down on their luck.
Hiroshi Nishitani has spent the bulk of his career working in television. Best known for the phenomenally popular Galileo starring Masaharu Fukuyama which spawned a number of big screen spin-offs including an adaptation of the series’ inspiration The Devotion of Suspect X and 
Windows on Worlds 