Plenty of Japanese directors are making films about the way the young live now, so many that I could probably fill this space every week with them -- and drive myself batty. The commercial ones tend toward over-ripe romantic agonizings that are agony to watch, while the arty ones incline toward blank-faced, slow-paced alienation of the slap-yourself-to-stay-awake sort.
Hiroshi Okuhara practices the minimalism favored by directors of the later type -- seldom moving his camera, cutting within a scene, or breaking the harmony of his mise en scene with explosions of emotion or violence. (In his work, a single punch is the dramatic equivalent of the Omaha Beach scene in "Saving Private Ryan.") He is not, however, a pretentious bore, but a keen, patient observer, who can extract drama and meaning from young characters who try their damnedest to be cool -- i.e., unreadable and unreachable by parents, bosses, and the rest of the uncool human race.
As did his two previous features, "Timeless Melody" (2000) and "Nami" (2001), his latest film, "Aoi Kuruma (A Blue Automobile)," focuses on such a character -- a part-time DJ and record-store employee named Richio (Arata). With his spiky yellow hair, wrap-around shades and pale mask of a face, Richio would seem to be the coolest of the cool, an icy moon circling the distant planet of his own regard.
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