As I’ve mentioned before, the Indian film censors are notoriously
strict; so strict, in fact, that even a kiss on the lips is both rare
and shocking. I’m no expert, but I suspect that things are different in
Japan. Exhibit A: The Happiness of the Katakuris.
Culture shock set in almost immediately, as a young woman sat down to a bowl of soup, only to have an anatomically correct homonculus emerge from the soup bowl, rip out her uvula (look it up), and fly off with it, only to be devoured by a crow which itself is promptly devoured by a deformed teddy bear. All part of the great circle of life, I suppose. This opening sequence has nothing to do with the rest of the film, but it certainly made one thing very clear: there may be musical numbers, but this aint Bollywood.
I have a theory about film. Any situation can be turned into a comedy simply by adding the words “Wackiness ensues when . . . ” to the beginning of the synopsis. In this case, wackiness ensues when the visitors at a struggling, remote guest house keep dropping dead, forcing the increasingly desperate owners to dispose of the bodies. And that’s pretty much the film. Yes, it’s a comedy, and though the humor is uniformly black, the whole enterprise is so relentlessly upbeat that you can’t help but cheer for the beleaguered family; the universe may be out to get the Katakuris, but the audience isn’t.
Masao Katakuri, having been laid off from his job, latches onto a rumor about upcoming road cosntruction and opens a guest house on the slope of Mount Fuji. He sees the guest house as not only his last chance financially, but as an opportunity to keep his family together. The family includes Masao’s father, his loving wife Terue, his troubled son Masayuki, his divorced daughter Shizue, and her daughter Yurie, who narrates the film. We first meet Yurie as she’s burying her goldfish in the yard, a sign of things to come.
As the film begins, the guest house isn’t doing well. They’ve had no guests at all, in fact, and the family is rife with tension. However, after Shizue and Yurie leave to stay in the city for a few days, their luck finally turns. A man shows up in the middle of a rainstorm to request a room. The family is thrilled. they’re less thrilled to find his body in the morning, however. Masao doesn’t want anyone to know that their first guest killed himself (really not great advertising, when you think about it) so the family bury the body out by the lake.
Meanwhile, Shizue and Yurie are in the city. Shizue had gotten pregnant while still a student, and was divorced by the time Yurie was born. She’s a little desperate to find her daughter a new father (and herself a new man), and it looks like she gets her chance when she meets a mysterious man in a military uniform; upon meeting him, she’s swept away into a Bollywood-styled fantasy number; it’s very nicely done, and a real contrast to the more Broadway-ish stylings of the other musical numbers in the film. But I digress.
The man, while plainly Japanese, says his name is Richard, and he’s a member of the British navy. And the American Air Force. Shizue is charmed. (Shizue is obviously not a keen judge of character.) When he asks for her cell phone number, she explains that they can’t get reception where she lives, and gives the address of the guest house instead. if you’re thinking that more wackiness will ensue, give yourself a cookie.
After Shizue’s return. business picks up again, as the guest house is visited by a slightly famous Sumo wrestler and his underaged mistress. The couple quickly retire to their room to engage in enthusiastic sex. Have I mentioned that I’ve been watching mostly Indian fare lately, where kissing on the lips is considered shocking? More culture shock.
In the midst of the festivities upstairs, the Sumo wrestler has a heart attack, and the family finds his naked corpse lying face down in the morning. At first their mystified, because they can’t find the girl, but then . . . you can probably guess what happened to her, and if you can’t, I envy you. Shizue wants to call the police, but Masao realizes that if the police are involved, they may stumble across the first guest, so two more anonymous graves are dug out by the lake.
Then the good news - the road is finally being put in! Construction should begin any day now, down by the lake. Does wackiness ensue? Indeed it does.
Throughout, the movie is trying very hard to be shocking. I’m really not easily shocked, but I’m usually rather put off by shock for shock’s sake. With Happiness, however, even though many of the individual shocks fell really flat with me (including most of the Claymation - did I forget to mention the Claymation?) the film as a whole was so relentlessly good natured that I couldn’t help but like it. This is a film in which life happens,a nd people make the best of it. I can’t help but admire their spirit.
All in all, I liked this movie. If you’re a more devoted B-movie type, you’ll probably love it; the zombie song alone is worth the price of admission.
Culture shock set in almost immediately, as a young woman sat down to a bowl of soup, only to have an anatomically correct homonculus emerge from the soup bowl, rip out her uvula (look it up), and fly off with it, only to be devoured by a crow which itself is promptly devoured by a deformed teddy bear. All part of the great circle of life, I suppose. This opening sequence has nothing to do with the rest of the film, but it certainly made one thing very clear: there may be musical numbers, but this aint Bollywood.
I have a theory about film. Any situation can be turned into a comedy simply by adding the words “Wackiness ensues when . . . ” to the beginning of the synopsis. In this case, wackiness ensues when the visitors at a struggling, remote guest house keep dropping dead, forcing the increasingly desperate owners to dispose of the bodies. And that’s pretty much the film. Yes, it’s a comedy, and though the humor is uniformly black, the whole enterprise is so relentlessly upbeat that you can’t help but cheer for the beleaguered family; the universe may be out to get the Katakuris, but the audience isn’t.
Masao Katakuri, having been laid off from his job, latches onto a rumor about upcoming road cosntruction and opens a guest house on the slope of Mount Fuji. He sees the guest house as not only his last chance financially, but as an opportunity to keep his family together. The family includes Masao’s father, his loving wife Terue, his troubled son Masayuki, his divorced daughter Shizue, and her daughter Yurie, who narrates the film. We first meet Yurie as she’s burying her goldfish in the yard, a sign of things to come.
As the film begins, the guest house isn’t doing well. They’ve had no guests at all, in fact, and the family is rife with tension. However, after Shizue and Yurie leave to stay in the city for a few days, their luck finally turns. A man shows up in the middle of a rainstorm to request a room. The family is thrilled. they’re less thrilled to find his body in the morning, however. Masao doesn’t want anyone to know that their first guest killed himself (really not great advertising, when you think about it) so the family bury the body out by the lake.
Meanwhile, Shizue and Yurie are in the city. Shizue had gotten pregnant while still a student, and was divorced by the time Yurie was born. She’s a little desperate to find her daughter a new father (and herself a new man), and it looks like she gets her chance when she meets a mysterious man in a military uniform; upon meeting him, she’s swept away into a Bollywood-styled fantasy number; it’s very nicely done, and a real contrast to the more Broadway-ish stylings of the other musical numbers in the film. But I digress.
The man, while plainly Japanese, says his name is Richard, and he’s a member of the British navy. And the American Air Force. Shizue is charmed. (Shizue is obviously not a keen judge of character.) When he asks for her cell phone number, she explains that they can’t get reception where she lives, and gives the address of the guest house instead. if you’re thinking that more wackiness will ensue, give yourself a cookie.
After Shizue’s return. business picks up again, as the guest house is visited by a slightly famous Sumo wrestler and his underaged mistress. The couple quickly retire to their room to engage in enthusiastic sex. Have I mentioned that I’ve been watching mostly Indian fare lately, where kissing on the lips is considered shocking? More culture shock.
In the midst of the festivities upstairs, the Sumo wrestler has a heart attack, and the family finds his naked corpse lying face down in the morning. At first their mystified, because they can’t find the girl, but then . . . you can probably guess what happened to her, and if you can’t, I envy you. Shizue wants to call the police, but Masao realizes that if the police are involved, they may stumble across the first guest, so two more anonymous graves are dug out by the lake.
Then the good news - the road is finally being put in! Construction should begin any day now, down by the lake. Does wackiness ensue? Indeed it does.
Throughout, the movie is trying very hard to be shocking. I’m really not easily shocked, but I’m usually rather put off by shock for shock’s sake. With Happiness, however, even though many of the individual shocks fell really flat with me (including most of the Claymation - did I forget to mention the Claymation?) the film as a whole was so relentlessly good natured that I couldn’t help but like it. This is a film in which life happens,a nd people make the best of it. I can’t help but admire their spirit.
All in all, I liked this movie. If you’re a more devoted B-movie type, you’ll probably love it; the zombie song alone is worth the price of admission.
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