Less than a tenth of Japan’s population live in the countryside, but the furusato (hometown) exerts a powerful draw. There’s a whole subgenre of Japanese cinema devoted to the rural areas that many urban residents have left behind: tales of honest folk and time-honored traditions, often aimed at an older audience and teeming with picturesque shots that could have been plucked from a tourism video.
Director Yoshinari Nishikori is an expert at this kind of thing. His films, many of them set in his native Shimane Prefecture, are odes to the old ways — and while they may be dewy-eyed, they’re not without merit. Like comfort food, sometimes stodgy fare can be satisfying too.
Originally set for release in April 2020, “The Takatsu River” has been stuck in limbo since the start of the pandemic, but this solidly wrought drama could have come out at any point during the past 30 years. It’s a well-worn story of a rural community in decline, though Nishikori offers a relatively upbeat spin on a narrative that usually gets framed only in negative terms.
The Takatsu River ( Takatsugawa ) Rating
3 out of 5 Run Time 113 mins. Language Japanese Opens Now showing
There’s plenty that the film’s characters could feel worried about; the population in their idyllic valley is graying fast and the local elementary school is set to close. Worst of all, a proposed resort development upstream threatens the purity of their beloved Takatsu River — which, as we’re reminded multiple times, is the only Class A river in Japan that isn’t dammed.
Nishikori’s script, so dense with exposition that it’s practically a radio play, focuses on a group of middle-aged residents who team up to give their old school a proper send-off, while fretting about the area’s long-term future. A parallel story focuses on efforts to maintain the local tradition of kagura, a vibrant form of Shinto ceremonial dance.
Widowed farmer Manabu (Masahiro Komoto) is staunchly devoted to his hometown, but worries that his teenage son, Tatsuya (Raizo Ichikawa), may not feel the same. Former classmate Yoko (Naho Toda) is also trying to support the community as she prepares to take over the family confectionery business, while caring for her ailing mother.
Their childhood friend, Makoto (Hiromasa Taguchi), succumbed to the lure of the city long ago: He’s now a lawyer and has become so effete that he insists on wearing a suit even when visiting his old hometown. But when his father — also the area’s most experienced kagura performer — takes a turn for the worse, this smug urbanite is forced to confront a few home truths.
Viewers of a sentimental disposition will relish Nishikori’s gentle eulogy to country life, and the film’s postcard-worthy landscapes are complemented by a soundtrack that’s pure treacle. But despite some mannered performances and on-the-nose dialogue, it’s an engaging story, and the kagura scenes offer some respite from the more heavy-handed moments.
Nishikori’s glass-half-full view of the issues facing Japan’s rural areas may be optimistic, but it isn’t airbrushed. He shows people succumbing to mental and physical infirmity, and forgoes the anticipated feel-good ending in favor of a more nuanced resolution. At the end of the film, the existential threat is still there, and the only comfort is that the characters may be a little better prepared to face it.
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