‘Plan 75’: A chilling look at a callous future society

In a near-future Japan that looks very much like the present, the government has unveiled a modest, monstrous proposal to address the country’s demographic crisis. Under the innocuously named Plan 75, senior citizens are gently encouraged to sign up for a voluntary euthanasia program.

It’s all awfully easy. There are sales representatives to guide people through the process and a call center to provide emotional support. Those who enroll are given a ¥100,000 handout — so they can make the most of their final weeks of life — and can opt for mass cremation to avoid the expense of a funeral.

Chie Hayakawa’s “Plan 75” puts a realistic spin on the dystopian scenarios of 1970s sci-fi movies like “Soylent Green” and “Logan’s Run,” and is all the more chilling for it. When the director first depicted the conceit in a short film that featured in the 2018 speculative anthology “Ten Years Japan,” it made the omnibus’s other segments look benign in comparison.

Expanded to a feature, “Plan 75” is more emotionally resonant and a fraction less cynical than the earlier short. That’s mostly thanks to a change in emphasis: Hayakawa’s elderly characters are no longer just passive victims, duped into ending their lives by family members who don’t want to act as caretakers. They’re given clearer agency, even if this doesn’t necessarily translate into a sense of control.

Michi (Chieko Baisho), a 78-year-old with no relatives, is doing her best to maintain her independence. Though she’s well past retirement age, she’s been living alone and working as a hotel chambermaid, at least until her employers find a convenient excuse to lay off all their elderly staff.

This callousness, always sugarcoated with politeness and platitudes, is a running theme throughout the film. As Michi is slowly sucked into the euthanasia program, the whole thing is couched in bland, gently patronizing tones that perfectly mimic the language of Japanese bureaucracy and public information campaigns. All that’s missing is a cheerful yuru-kyara mascot to promote it.

In parallel stories, a youthful Plan 75 salesman (Hayato Isomura) has his resolve tested when his estranged uncle — a man who’s clearly lost any desire to live — signs up for the scheme. Meanwhile, a Filipino care worker (Stefanie Arianne) trying to raise money for her daughter’s medical treatment takes a job handling corpses at one of the mass crematoriums.

The film’s broader canvas allows Hayakawa to consider the wider ramifications of her theme, though the mechanics of her script can be clumsy at times. There are a few scenes that strain credulity, while a sympathetic call center operator (Yumi Kawai) introduced halfway through the film is too obviously just there to serve a narrative function.

The film might have been even stronger if it had focused just on Michi’s storyline; Baisho’s performance is a thing of quiet wonder.

Despite the bleakness of the subject matter, “Plan 75” is frequently beautiful to look at. Cinematographer Hideho Urata’s elegant, layered compositions are given added luster by some superior post-production, which casts many scenes in appropriately funereal blacks.

As the film progresses, a sense of numb resignation sets in. But Hayakawa refuses to end on a resolutely downbeat note — and in its haunting closing shot, “Plan 75” achieves something close to an epiphany.