With an interesting premise that goes awry, Hirokazu Kore-eda’s blow-up doll may develop a heart, but where’s the films soul?
In the first of a (short) series we look at some of the more interesting films that premiered at the recent 2009 London Film Festival and will, hopefully, make it to a wider audience. First up is Air Doll, director Hirokazu Kore-eda’s latest offering about an inflatable sex doll that comes to life…
The doll in question belongs Hideo (Itsuji Itao, Death Note: The Last Name, Tokyo Gore Police, Love Exposure), who treats the sex doll more like a living companion, dressing her up, talking to her over dinner, and generally caring for her far more than he would a real girlfriend (with a great sense of irony by director Kore-eda).
One day the doll he calls Nozomi (Bae Doo-Na, The Host, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Barking Dogs Never Bite) comes to life, and begins living a real, second life when he goes to work. Naively exploring the world outside her apartment, she soon encounters various urban residents who are as metaphorically ‘empty inside’ as she is for real. Getting a job at a local video store, she befriends her colleague Junichi (Arata, Bare Essence of Life, 20th Century Boys, Ping Pong), with whom she learns about life through films they watch together there.
As that friendship turns to love, she begins to know what it feels like to be a real human, but that happiness is soon interrupted by tragedy…
This isn’t the first film to feature a sex doll. In the past we’ve seen Lars And The Real Girl and delusional schlock horror Love Object, but it’s the first to show it from the dolls perspective. Of course, Kore-eda’s film is far more than an obvious look at the objectification of women in today’s society – it’s a tender meditation on the isolation of urban life, and loneliness each of his characters feel, and what it means to be human.
Based on the manga The Pneumatic Figure of a Girl by Yoshie Gouda – himself no stranger to live-action adaptations with the recent very successful version of Happily Ever After – the core themes are by no means uncommon. Indeed, even the more spectacular science fiction of Ghost In The Shell has at its heart the same question, what does it mean to be a living being.
As with previous films like Hana (which itself played at the London Film Festival two years ago), Kore-eda keeps his characters to a core ensemble, as they reoccur and we learn more about their lives. Each is fractured and dysfunctional in some way or another, all have a certain emptiness. Yet somehow the film itself fails to connect, like it’s as empty as the subject. It may have heart, but lacks the soul and warmth of Hana (which to my mind has been one of the most enjoyable and overlooked Samurai period films of recent years). It’s almost as if the director is holding us at the same distance we keep ourselves from our urban neighbours. (And again, not an uncommon themes, particularly in Japanese films.)
It’s when Nozomi meets her maker, the film really loses its way. It dithers for half an hour, seemingly unsure of where it wants to go, coming to a tragic but ultimately unsatisfying conclusion. When he asks if she has seen anything other than sadness in this world, she shakes her head. In many ways, it’s not unlike John Sayles interesting but flawed The Brother From Another Planet.
Korean actress Bae Doo-Na gives another solid performance in the lead, if oddly almost unrecognisable – her nationality successfully adding a level or two to Nozomi’s alienation and general bewilderment. Indeed, spending much of the film naked is bound to please long-time fans of her work, though Kore-eda’s direction is not at all salacious. Its only after she accidently nicks herself, letting precious air out of her body, and Junichi saves her by blowing her up, both sensual and hilarious, that his film gets remotes sexy – which seems somewhat fitting.
Kore-eda’s film is a great concept, and pretty well played out. Worth seeing. It just makes you wish some bright spark would hurry up and licence Hana (not to mention pretty much all of Kore-eda’s back catalogue!) for UK release, though…
