Single8 (Kazuya Konaka, 2023)

In a lot of ways, it’s never been easier to make a movie. You can capture sound and image with your phone, edit and add special effects on an ordinary laptop with no particular need for professional grade software or equipment. But on the other hand, perhaps there’s something that’s been lost now that you don’t need to work so hard to overcome technical limitations. Kazuya Konaka’s auto-biographically inspired high school drama Single8 follows hot in the heels of It’s a Summer Film! in pairing the classic summer adventure movie with filmmaking nostalgia while looking back to a now forgotten era of analogue creativity. 

Set in the summer of 1978, the film opens with an homage to Star Wars which has captured the imagination of diffident high school boy Hiroshi (Yu Uemura). Hiroshi is not so much a film buff as special effects enthusiast and is particularly obsessed with figuring out how Lucas achieved the overwhelming sense of scale in his spaceship model shots. Aimed only with a regular, consumer-level 8mm camera, he teams up with a friend, Yoshio (Noa Fukuzawa), to experiment and thanks to the advice of the guy at the camera shop (Yusuke Sato) eventually manages to recreate the scene with a surprising level of dexterity. His new found confidence leads him to suggest they continue with the film as the class project for the upcoming school festival which will be the last of their high school lives. 

The snag is that Hiroshi hadn’t thought much beyond recreating the shot. His previous short film had been called “Claws” and was basically Jaws only with a bear. When people ask him what the film will be about, he looks at them quizzically as if it hadn’t really occurred to him that the plot would be important or something anyone would be interested in. It’s only by teaming up with another student, Sasaki (Ryuta Kuwayama), who actually is a film buff that they begin to come up with their own ideas even if they’re also often influenced by other science fiction films and tokusatsu television series. In a meta touch, the students openly discuss scriptwriting theory remarking that the most important aspect is how the protagonist evolves between the first scene and the last. The film itself and the film with in a film attack this in a similar way, with Hiroshi eventually deciding to end on a note of ambivalence in which it is clear that something has changed if perhaps not obviously. Now no longer quite so diffident, he steps into the role of a director and proudly declares that his next film will be even better than this one. 

Similarly, Konaka avoids falling into the trap of an overly neat conclusion in allowing events to play out in a more natural way than we would usually expect them to in a movie even if Hiroshi is eventually able to win over even the most obnoxious of his classmates, Yoshida. Through making the film together, each of team members including Hiroshi’s crush Natsumi (Akari Takaishi) who plays the film’s heroine grow in confidence and come to understand something of themselves while otherwise having fun and making friends across the last summer break of their teenage lives. The film is a collaborative effort and made with a true sense of generosity with a university student friend of the camera shop guy helping out with special effects by literally carving them directly into the film itself and the high school band Natsumi manages also agreeing to provide the score. 

A true tribute to the charming world of DIY filmmaking in the pre-digital era the film has has a charming nostalgic quality which is only enhanced by the fact that the film within the film, which is eventually shown in its entirety, is actually very good and quite touching in its earnestness. Konaka includes clips of the few of his own 8mm films over the closing credits which adds a meta note to the film’s message that “people should fix their own mistakes” even if there is also an irony in the insistence that they should look to the future rather than obsessing over the past. Using frequent screenwipes as a visual homage to Star Wars but also of course to The Hidden Fortress which inspired them, Konaka’s retro teen drama ends on a similarly ambiguous though less melancholy note than the film within a film filled with a sense of possibility for a new world of creativity which is only just beginning. 


Single8 screened as part of this year’s Nippon Connection. It will also be screening in New York on 30th July as part of this year’s JAPAN CUTS.

Original trailer (no subtitles)

Images: ©Single8 Film Partners

Lullaby of the Earth (大地の子守歌, Yasuzo Masumura, 1976)

lullaby-of-the-earthYasuzo Masumura is best remembered for his deliberately transgressive, often shockingly grotesque critiques of Japanese society and its conformist overtones. Lullaby of the Earth (大地の子守歌, Daichi no Komoriuta) is one of his few completely independent features, filmed after the bankruptcy of Daiei where Masumura had spent the bulk of his early years. As such, it is quite an exception in terms of his wider career both in terms of its production and in its earthy, spiritual themes. Adapted from the 1974 novel by Kukiko Moto, Lullaby of the Earth is the story of an abandoned and betrayed woman but one who also draws her strength from the Earth itself.

13 year old Rin (Mieko Harada) has been living with her adopted grandmother in a remote mountain community. Returning home one day triumphantly carrying a rabbit for dinner, Rin discovers that her grandmother has passed away. Being just a child and now alone and frightened, Rin does not know what to do and later receives harsh treatment from the villagers from whom she temporarily conceals her grandmother’s death. With no one to look after her, Rin is approached by a kind seeming man in Western dress who offers her a good job on a nearby island which, he says, pays well and offers a much better quality of life than Rin’s current survivalist setup in the mountains. Rin has heard tales of men like him before and is not taken in by his arguments, even when he suggests she could use the money to buy a proper grave for her grandmother. She is, however, caught when he mentions taking her to see the sea – something she has been longing for for most of her life.

However, Rin’s pure joy at the waves and endless horizons of the shoreline is short lived when reality hits home and she realises she has been sold to a brothel. The brothel owners are not a bad sort, considering, and intend on using her as a servant until she comes of age but Rin is not having any of it. Refusing to eat, work, or wear her new clothes, Rin is proving to be a very bad investment but changes her tune when she strikes up a friendship with a girl who works at a local store who convinces her that her rebellion is misplaced. Work hard and pay off your debt, she says, and they’ll let you go home. Rin decides to do just that, and with her characteristic energy, but her journey home is not to be such a straight forward experience.

Lullaby of the Earth maybe unusual in Masumura’s filmography due its period setting and gentler, more spiritually orientated progression but Rin is, in many ways, a typical Masumura heroine. A true child of nature, Rin is athletic, at home in the forests and woods trapping rabbits and building fires. Her downfall is brought about precisely because of her desire for total freedom. Longing to see the sea with all of the freedom and possibilities that it suggests, Rin allows herself to be taken in by the false promises of a procurer (presumably alerted by a less than helpful villager), little knowing that she’s damned herself for a period of at least three years.

Made to suffer numerous degradations from the humiliation of her servitude, to a beating that leaves her half dead and her final forced prostitution, Rin maintains her resistance in whichever way she can. Striving for control, Rin takes on a masculine quality defined by strength and agility rather than elegance and beauty. Once again longing for the sea, Rin begs to be allowed to row the boat that takes the girls out to find business from passing ships. “If you take my oar you’ll be in trouble” she later exclaims, clinging to her source of male power even whilst being forced into the gaudy brothel kimono. Displaying her own ability for active choice even within her controlled environment, Rin takes the scissors to her own hair, cutting it short like a man’s.

Given the chance to escape the brothel for a comfortable life as the mistress of a wealthy man, Rin refuses. A decision which seems bizarre to many of the other girls, but Rin will have her freedom back in its entirety – she will not swap one cage for another as the prized possession of a some other authority. Meeting a man who claims he may be able to help her, Rin starts working overtime to save the money to escape with the consequence that her health suffers, leading to almost total blindness followed by listless depression. Only at this point does her inner fire start to waver, but it is never extinguished allowing her to finally make a break for it even if she literally cannot see where she is headed.

Rin’s guiding voices come from the Earth itself as mediated by the kindly internal presence of her grandmother. The soil is sacred, as her grandmother told her. Rub soil into your wounds and you’ll soon be healed. In times of trouble, lie against the Earth’s surface and you will know what to do. Rin wants to find the way back to her mountain, but it may no longer exist for her. Nevertheless, the Earth itself is singing and will tell her where to go, so long as she can find the strength to listen.

Masumura begins the film with Rin at prayer, dressed in the white clothes of a pilgrim and dutifully following the temple paths around the island of Shikoku. Suffering a final PTSD flashback of all she’s suffered since her grandmother’s passing, Rin is once again comforted by the sounds of the Earth, beginning with her grandmother’s voice to which more are slowly added, cheering her on with chorus of support as she walks towards the end of her journey. A wonderful, early leading performance for Mieko Harada, Lullaby of the Earth is a far more new age exercise than Masumura’s generally cynical approach to human spirituality would usually allow but neatly tallies with his primary concerns in its heroine’s eternal quest for her own autonomy, body and soul, as she traverses a cold and unforgiving world.