There’s a particular kind of dread that doesn’t need ghosts: the quiet panic of a paycheque vanishing, and the daily commute performed out of habit. Tokyo Sonata finds Kiyoshi Kurosawa swapping Cure/ Pulse chills for the more familiar horror of status and shame.
A salaryman loses his job and can’t say it out loud, so he keeps leaving the house like nothing’s changed. Teruyuki Kagawa plays Ryuhei as a man handcuffed to pride, while Kyoko Koizumi’s Megumi tries to keep the family upright on instinct and fatigue. The sons split too: one lunges for a grand escape, the other for a quieter exit.
The film is darkly funny in a way that stings — watching routine turn into theatre, and dignity into a costume you can’t take off. Midway, Kurosawa steers into a sudden, unsettling detour that makes the social rules look faintly ridiculous.
It slightly loosens its grip when it follows every thread, but the final piano passage lands with surprising clarity. Human, sharp, and quietly bruising — a family resetting in real time.
I quite enjoyed the first half of this film. However, just over halfway through, there are some utterly bizarre twists in the plotline, which makes it feel like you've strayed into a completely different film altogether. It seems like the writer couldn't work how to finish the plot within the confines that had already been set up, so veers off in a totally different direction. All in all, a very odd film.
After hiring the DVD I felt obliged to go out and purchase the Blu Ray for this film, its that good. Foreign cinema enthusiasts may not have come across the work of Kurosawa previously, despite having released thirteen films before Tokyo Sonata. Those efforts have been confirmed to the Japanese horror genre, with films as varied as Kairo (Pulse) to Retribution (Sakebi), providing him with a well earned reputation as J-horror master. Tokyo Sonata is as such his debut outside of J-horror, which makes it even more remarkable. The picture quality is excellent and seems extremely fresh lacking any artefacts or grain. This clean cut characteristic goes well with the urban settings utilised by Kurosawa, harbouring a wide range of grey, black and white with flashes of colour. The ending is especially poignant, an emotional wrench that really hit home more than I'd really like to admit to in public.