Introduction
Michihito Fujji might not be a big name in Japanese cinema, but he has, over the last few years, put himself on the international map, be it through screening his films at film-festivals – Day and Night (2019), The Journalist (2020), The Last Ten Years (2022) – or releasing them through Netflix – Yakuza and The Family (2021). His latest narrative takes the latter route, granting a wide international public a taste of his style of contemporary drama.
Review
Yuu (Ryusei Yokohama), who works at the imposing garbage disposal facility on the hills behind the beautiful Kamon Village, is often forced by Toru Ohashi (Wataru Ichinose) to participate in fights. One day, the fight, which he was losing, is quickly stopped and the betting-money quickly hidden when Mayor Shusaku Ohashi (Arata Furuta) (-) turns up to show Mr. Sakashita around to secure next year’s subsidy.
Not much later, Yuu encounters Misaki Nakai (Haru Kuroki) at his work place. She has unexpectedly returned to her hometown after ten years in Tokyo. In contrast to the others who either exploit him or avoid him, she promptly invites him to her welcome party.
Village functions both as a familial drama and as a psychological drama. Fujii explores, within his narrative, the internal rifts and desires that structure the Ohashi family as well as the effect of the mayor’s desire to maintain the image of societal harmony on Yuu’s subjectivity.
As the narrative opens, the spectator is offered a fragmentary glance at the very traumatic event that disturbed the phantasmatic peace of the village, ravaged Yuu’s family and problematized his future position within the societal fabric. The fights as well as the vile whispers that persecute him are a direct consequence of this events and emphasize that he is considered an unerasable trash-object by the local Other – he needs to suffer for his father’s sinful act. His forced participation in fights at his work do not merely aim to exploit him for the Other’s enjoyment, but to keep him violently imprisoned within this position of trash-object. The whispers, on the other hand, emphasize that he is a vile unwanted object that disturbs, by his mere presence, the imaginary harmony of the village. Yuu’s acts or the lack thereof as well as the signifiers he vocalizes underline that, despite not consciously agreeing with it, he has nevertheless identified with this position. He grumbles about it, but remains within the confines of being the trash-object of the Other.
The effect of the event on the familial bond is evident in the dynamic between Yuu and his mother. This relationship, as soon becomes evident, is also defined by exploitation and jouissance. While Yuu was forced by Masaru Maruoka (Tetta Sugimoto) to take part in the secret illegal dumping at the facility to pay of his mother’s debt, he finds himself financing her addiction to gambling, alcohol and cigarettes instead. While it is not explicitly stated, it is very plausable that the circuit of jouissance Kimie (Naomi Nishida) is imprisoned by is her way of warding off the familial trauma of the past.
The encounter with Misaki Nakai introduces a radically different dynamic. The way she speaks with and acts around him reveals a subject that refuses to violently erase his subjectivity. By doing so, she slowly creates an opening into Yuu’s prison, allowing his locked-up subject to escape (Narra-note 1, Narra-note 2). She becomes, in other words, the object-of-desire that allows him to invest, once more, his libido in the outside world. Yet, Yuu’s subjective change is not welcomed by many and especially not Toru Ohashi, who harbours feelings for Misaki.
The repetitive element of the Noh-mask can be interpreted in different ways. Within the Noh-dance, the mask attains, due to the music and the highly stylized movements, an estranging but fascinating quality. The mask transforms into a gaze that, powerfully, demands the subject to question his own logic. Yet, when the white Noh-masks form a sea, nothing other than the fact that the protecting of the mendacious societal harmony goes hand in hand with the erasure of subjectivity is. The mask is also introduced as an object of defence as it separates the subject’s ego from the Other’s gaze.
The composition of Village finds a great balance between subtle and temperate dynamism and shaky framing. Shaky framing is, throughout the narrative, utilized to reverberate the effect of the persecutory Other and his jouissance on Yuu’s subject. The shakiness, by establishing a visual link between Yuu and the spectator, further enhances the ability of the audience to invest in his trajectory.
The subdued lightning combined with the more darkish colour-design is not merely utilized by Fujii to litter his composition with impressive imagery, for example of landscapes, but to evoke, right from the beginning, an inauspicious atmosphere that echoes unvocalized despair and darkish dissension. Fujii, furthermore, plays with colour-contrasts within his composition – yellowish vs darkish blueish colours, to further emphasize the sliver of despair and dissension that lingers within the darkish atmosphere (Colour-note 1). As the narrative focuses on Yuu, it is obvious that the despair and dissonance within the atmosphere is his – his subjective position reverberates in the visuals.
The recurring visual contrast between natural and interpersonal beauty and cultural ugliness (e.g. waste, interpersonal violence) within the composition also finds its expression in the illegal dumping of hazardous trash at the landfill. With this contrast, Fujii does not merely evoke the uncomfortable truth that what fuels cultural ugliness is nothing other than the criminal thirst for joyous exploitation, but also that human-made cultural vileness, the waste produced by our jouissance, poisons and disintegrates untouched beauty of nature.
Village is an incredibly powerful drama narrative that illustrates how toxic and destructive a societal environment can be for the subject – the persecutory dimension of the Other – and how reparative ‘inter-subjective’ signifiers can be. Fujii’s themes reach their potential to touch the spectator due to the very fruitful interplay of Fujii’s visually appealing composition and powerful performances of the cast. Highly recommended.
Notes
Narra-note 1: The creation of such opening is initialized by a stream of flashbacks that washes over Yuu.
Narra-note 2: Later in the narrative, Yuu finds himself being used by the mayor to promote the facility and the village to the external societal Other. While his position within the local community is one of exclusion, the mayor wants to stage a mendacious image of inclusion to the Other to promote tourism.
Colour-note 1: In one instance, a similar colour-schemes gains, due to the visual content, a completely different weight.
Acting-note 1: Ryusei Yokohama gives an impressive performance that fully echoes Fujii’s non-verbal visual evocations. While the narrative is carried by a very talented cast that keeps the spectator engaged throughout, it is Yokohama’s performance that firmly pulls him into the narrative.




