Prefatory Note: I will use the Japanese convention of listing the family (last) name first and the given name last--basically the opposite of how we write names in America.
I love a good action movie. From Kick-Ass and The Raid to Aliens and Die Hard, a well choreographed, directed, and edited action film thrills me, enthralls me, delights me. Indeed, what may be my favorite film, The Incredibles, features a healthy dose of pyrotechnic action alongside the ingeniously constructed story and richly realized characters.
Not to say that I have totally eschewed non-action films to this point. I have a great fondness for films such as Beauty and the Beast, City Lights, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Moonrise Kingdom. But to say that I actively seek out soap operas and weepy TV series would be erroneous. Which, of course, is the very nature of Japanese dramas (and Korean ones too, from what I gather).
I can't quite recall how I stumbled upon Mother, or, more importantly, why I decided to watch it. Chalk it up to an unexplainable whim, of which I admittedly have many. Maybe it's because I'm half-Japanese and wanted to "explore my roots." Maybe I wanted to see how much Japanese I could remember from high school. (Not a whole lot, as it turned out). But I got sucked into watching all 11 episodes of this exceptional series (most episodes are 46 minutes, with the first running 71 minutes and the last running 58 minutes).
Now, this is a drama in which almost all the characters--certainly all the important ones--are female. Yet in an age when many female characters are still either one-note damsels-in-distress or tough chicks, it's more than refreshing to find a show in which--just as in life--we find a wide range of female characters, each of whom feature their own complexities, nuances, and variegated approaches to life.
Here's the basic premise: A young woman, Suzuhara Nao, is subbing at an elementary school and forms a connection with an oddly perspicacious student, eight-year-old Michiki Rena. Over the course of the pilot, Nao discovers that Rena doesn't have the best home situation; an utterly despicable (yet sadly believable) act by Rena's mother sets the plot in motion…
Before I start gushing, I will say that the show isn't without its flaws. Many scenes are very deliberately paced, to put it kindly, and could have been tightened up just a bit. The penultimate episode's cliffhanger also promises more than what the finale actually delivered--not that the ending was bad, it's just that it didn't quite reach the heights of what came before. The main plot involves Nao and Rena, but some of the scenes devoted to the subplots aren't quite as engaging. But the show's biggest blunder is about three-quarters through the final episode. Just as a poignant scene is about to hit its emotional peak, those stupid sponsor logos pop up directly over the scene, complete with the a voice-over saying, "Thank you to these companies for ruining this scene," or something to that effect. It doesn't help that the smiling moon logo of the main sponsor, Kao, makes you want to punch it right in its smug little moon-face.
The acting throughout is superb. Matsuyuki Yasuko plays Nao as understated, forgoing extreme facial calisthenics in favor of a more natural approach. Her emotions churn deep inside her, yet you can tell that they're there. When the circumstances of the story inevitably cause those emotions to erupt, it's all the more emotionally affecting. Ono Machiko as Michiki Hitomi, Rena's mom, does well portraying a distasteful, pitiful character in a hopeless situation she's mostly created for herself. (Ono is also great in Saikou no Rikon, in which she plays in irrepressibly vivacious bundle of life. When some actors portray characters on opposite sides of the spectrum, it seems like they're trying too hard. Yet Ono pulls off both these disparate characters with impressive aplomb.)
Takahata Atsuko (the voice of Lady Sagami in The Tale of the Princess Kaguya) as Suzuhara Toko, Nao's mother, is an outwardly blunt, caustic hard-hitter with a deep reservoir of emotion. In one scene, she's signing an important document, and the look of utter despondency on her face, not believing what's happening and not knowing where to turn, is painful. Tanaka Yuko (the voice of Lady Eboshi in Princess Mononoke) plays Mochizuki Hana; I won't reveal her part in the story, but she deftly portrays a character whose heartbreaking forbearance stems from a deeply ingrained sense of guilt.
The dialogue (written by Sakamoto Yuji, screenwriter of the aforementioned Saikou no Rikon) adroitly encapsulates the thoughts and emotions of each character. Yes, some of the scenes between Nao and Hana are a bit slow, but these characters in particular are expressing their innermost feelings for the first time; it makes sense that they take time to get their points across.
The episodes are structured in such a way that most of them end with a cliffhanger. Each episode ends with the credits playing (unobtrusively) over the final minutes. In one episode, the credits come at the very beginning, which should tip you off that some sh*t's going to go down at the end of the episode--and boy, does it ever.
(MILD SPOILER) And, of course, in another episode the credits play over a lighthearted (though somewhat bittersweet) scene that, for those so inclined (i.e., not me), causes an "Aww, how cute" reaction. The credits end, and the scene seems to be over. The episode's done, right? Then, out of nowhere, the scene gets extremely emotional very quickly, a poignant gut-punch that devastated me, catching me completely off guard. (END MILD SPOILER)
And the mastermind behind this little scene? Tune in next time to read about Mother's most essential ingredient, the attribute that lifted it from a well-written drama into an artistic tour de force that I will keep thinking about for years to come.
Read Part 2 here.
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