The Happiness of the KatakurisFrom the very start of The Happiness of the Katakuris, we've got a bizarre montage of claymation imagery, with a strange, little imp emerging from a bowl of soup, and grabbing ahold of some poor woman's uvula--that's the thing in the back of your throat. Rattled with the preamble, our introduction to the eponymous Katakuris is at their failing bed and breakfast, the brain child of Masao (Kenji Sawada), who after having been laid off from a shoe store, starts the business with his wife, Terue (Keiko Matsuzaka), assuming that the locale would coincide with the building of a main thoroughfare; it does not, and the business becomes an albatross around the familial neck.
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One day, a guest arrives--finally--but all is not well. Not only is the guest morose and aloof, but he has the poor manners to kill himself in his room, and the family is left to decide what to do with the body. Now all of this would make for a suspenseful thriller, sure, but The Happiness of the Katakuris goes in the complete opposite direction, turning the plot into a black comedy/musical. Numerous song and dance routines--like the one which spontaneously takes place upon discovering their first body (yes, first)--diffuse what might be otherwise tense moments. Often inappropriate music becomes exceedingly common in the film, but makes for entertaining scenes in the absurdity of a musical routine within moments of conspiracy to conceal a body. When the lovelorn daughter, Shizue (Naomi Nishida) goes out with her little girl, Yurie (Tamaki Miyazaki), she comes across "Richard Sagawa" (Kiyoshirô Imawano), who claims to be not only a member of the US Navy, but also a secret agent for Great Britain. Naturally, a mambo-inspired dance routine follows with greenscreened stars and glitter, and Richard even flies, given wings by the raw power of love. Yep, it's going to be like that. The subplot with Richard and Shizue comes to a head when he finally takes her up on her offer to visit--looking for a quick buck--and grandfather Jinpei (Tetsurô Tanba) catches onto Richard's scheme, they get into such a big fight, the movie slips back into claymation again, and not for the last time. My suspicion as to why the film deviates into claymation sequences--aside from being pretty cool and save on more costly effects--is to reinforce the comedic moments, even when things might seem dire. Although The Happiness of the Katakuris is fundamentally a musical comedy, there are others which populate the movie which would feel at home in a horror film, as though these scenes were also guests staying at the B&B of the doomed.
As befits a film with the name of the family in the title, The Happiness of the Katakuris is about the familial bond of the Katakuris. One of the best examples of their bond is a simple--yet convincing--scene early on when the family is gathered for dinner, passing the servings of stew, negotiating portions of tofu. The young Yurie asks about a deer's head on the wall, wondering what happened to the body; "Grandpa" explains how he shot the dear, accidentally spitting his food on Masayuki (Shinji Takeda), and the two laugh emphatically over it. The whole scene feels as though we were watching an actual family eating, conversing, connecting on levels which are more real than the plot. But not to let us get too comfortable with anything too normal, there is an interjection with a strange newscaster talking about farm animals working at another bed and breakfast, and a cross-dressing singer added in, just to keep things odd. From the start, the Katakuris have felt obliged to make the retreat work, but the passion from Masayuki and Shizue isn't really there. As the events begin to spiral down the drain with the passing of their guests, the family is forced to chip in to prevent the reputation of the hotel from being killed in the crib. At the beginning of the film, it is Yurie who makes the first burial, that of her goldfish, as she narrates and contemplates deeper psychological issues, considering how she will grow in her life by following her family's examples. But as the string of unfortunate events continues, the bed and breakfast experiences a kind of renaissance, and becomes more popular than ever, although not all of their guests are what Masao hopes for, not all "ordinary people". For all of the silly, strange musical numbers and weird sight gags, The Happiness of the Katakuris also possesses some truly touching moments. When a stranger who stumbles into a hole Masayuki and Grandpa are digging is knocked unconscious, and wakes up bewildered in the Katakuris house, he freaks out and takes Terue as a hostage. It is discovered that he had killed his wife. Masao delivers an earnest plea for the manic murderer to release his wife and take him, because he loves her so much. Director Takashi Miike intentionally manipulates the camera to give it a shaky feel, like we were witnessing a crime documentary--jarring, but effective, and it changes our mood for the film, and we become sympathetic to Masao's desperation. And like the whole oeuvre of Takashi Miike, The Happiness of the Katakuris is a singularly diverse film, combining drama, comedy, music, horror, and even animation all in one, an entertaining sampler platter of Miike's style, and an enjoyable tale of a family pulling together.
Recommended for: Fans of an off-the-wall musical comedy, which delights in self-aware Japanese references, and tells (sings?) a strange, but occasionally heartwarming story of a family becoming closer through adversity, and of the various struggles of life and death. A bit of trivia: to add weird to weird, look up actress Keiko Matsuzaka's cursed Kleenex commercial to see how at home the cast is among the strange and unusual.
As befits a film with the name of the family in the title, The Happiness of the Katakuris is about the familial bond of the Katakuris. One of the best examples of their bond is a simple--yet convincing--scene early on when the family is gathered for dinner, passing the servings of stew, negotiating portions of tofu. The young Yurie asks about a deer's head on the wall, wondering what happened to the body; "Grandpa" explains how he shot the dear, accidentally spitting his food on Masayuki (Shinji Takeda), and the two laugh emphatically over it. The whole scene feels as though we were watching an actual family eating, conversing, connecting on levels which are more real than the plot. But not to let us get too comfortable with anything too normal, there is an interjection with a strange newscaster talking about farm animals working at another bed and breakfast, and a cross-dressing singer added in, just to keep things odd. From the start, the Katakuris have felt obliged to make the retreat work, but the passion from Masayuki and Shizue isn't really there. As the events begin to spiral down the drain with the passing of their guests, the family is forced to chip in to prevent the reputation of the hotel from being killed in the crib. At the beginning of the film, it is Yurie who makes the first burial, that of her goldfish, as she narrates and contemplates deeper psychological issues, considering how she will grow in her life by following her family's examples. But as the string of unfortunate events continues, the bed and breakfast experiences a kind of renaissance, and becomes more popular than ever, although not all of their guests are what Masao hopes for, not all "ordinary people". For all of the silly, strange musical numbers and weird sight gags, The Happiness of the Katakuris also possesses some truly touching moments. When a stranger who stumbles into a hole Masayuki and Grandpa are digging is knocked unconscious, and wakes up bewildered in the Katakuris house, he freaks out and takes Terue as a hostage. It is discovered that he had killed his wife. Masao delivers an earnest plea for the manic murderer to release his wife and take him, because he loves her so much. Director Takashi Miike intentionally manipulates the camera to give it a shaky feel, like we were witnessing a crime documentary--jarring, but effective, and it changes our mood for the film, and we become sympathetic to Masao's desperation. And like the whole oeuvre of Takashi Miike, The Happiness of the Katakuris is a singularly diverse film, combining drama, comedy, music, horror, and even animation all in one, an entertaining sampler platter of Miike's style, and an enjoyable tale of a family pulling together.
Recommended for: Fans of an off-the-wall musical comedy, which delights in self-aware Japanese references, and tells (sings?) a strange, but occasionally heartwarming story of a family becoming closer through adversity, and of the various struggles of life and death. A bit of trivia: to add weird to weird, look up actress Keiko Matsuzaka's cursed Kleenex commercial to see how at home the cast is among the strange and unusual.