‘Prior Convictions’: Probation workers and ex-cons tug at the heartstrings

Ex-convicts have it hard in Japan, with their criminal records trailing them from job to job, place to place. The many Japanese films about them have a common arc: The struggle to stay on the straight and narrow fails, the lure of the criminal life prevails.

Yoshiyuki Kishi’s well-intentioned social problem drama “Prior Convictions,” which has its origins in a six-part TV series on Wowow — that was in turn based on a manga by Masahito Kagawa and Toji Tsukishima — adds a component those films ignore: the volunteer probation workers who support the transition of ex-cons to productive lives.

Kasumi Arimura plays one of these workers, a woman named Kaya Agawa, who takes a near-saintly interest in her charges, while strictly shepherding them along the thorny path to reform. When one surly parolee refuses to rise from her futon to go to her new job, Kaya yells and smashes her kitchen window, a scene played for laughs. She finally wins her over, though, with heartfelt concern rather than tough love.

This and other comic encounters with oddball ex-cons soon give way to a more serious story about Kaya’s relationship with Makoto Kudo (Go Morita), a quiet man who has served a sentence for murder and is now working peacefully as a car mechanic. Morita played a similar role in Keisuke Yoshida’s 2016 film “Himeanole.” His portrayal of a serial killer in that pitch-dark drama, however, was more disturbing than his turn as Makoto, a decent sort who sincerely wants to turn over a new leaf, despite experiencing a childhood of abuse (shown in graphic flashbacks) and impulsively killing a bullying coworker — an incident he claims not to remember.

However, just as he is about to finish his parole and say a reluctant farewell to Kaya, the theft of a cop’s revolver by a mysterious man in a hoodie, followed by a series of seemingly random fatal shootings, lead the police to suspect Makoto as the culprit. After having grown attached to Makoto beyond the call of duty, Kaya refuses to believe that he could possibly be to blame, but we soon see that he does share something with the killer beyond his type of crime.

Though the film instructively details the actualities of a parole system little-known to most Japanese (and this reviewer), it becomes a melodrama that tugs at the heartstrings and sympathizes with its murderers, who are portrayed as either repentant or victims of harsh circumstances. As the survivor of a violent mugging in Rome, I couldn’t help feeling that the film’s story was too convenient by half, framing its crimes mostly as regrettable accidents or acts of revenge that can be understood, if not approved of. What I experienced was an opportunistic and brutal beating that left me wanting justice. Forgiveness of the thugs who attacked me could wait.

Nonetheless, the message of “Prior Convictions” is important, especially in a society like Japan’s that is stingy with second chances. Kaya, who never loses her ideals despite her own traumatic experience with crime, and the real-life probation officers she's modeled on are doing necessary work. But payback, as the film’s hooded killer shows in his cold, long-marinated rage, can also be dangerously attractive.