In the sequence of Hirokazu Kore-eda's films, "Miracle" is the one that is often overlooked. Compared to the director's other works, this children's film seems to be a little too light and bright. Although intellectually I agree that it's not the best Hirokazu Kore-eda, it's undoubtedly my favorite.
Miracle Miracle is a project by JR (Japan Railways Group) to coincide with the opening of the Kyushu Shinkansen from Hakata to Kagoshima**. Although it is a proposition essay, it is also a work made by Hirokazu Kore-eda to his daughter, he wrote in an article, My daughter was three years old, and when I was filming "Miracle", I thought that this was a movie that would make her ** when she was ten years old, and I wanted to say to her that the world is so wonderful, daily life is beautiful, and life itself is a miracle. 」
1. Lightness. From the perspective of form, on the one hand, as a propositional composition, "Miracle" is theme-first, and the narrative structure is also highly neat, which is the product of artificial design.
But on the other hand, Kore-eda's narrative technique is so subtle that it does not leave strong traces of human manipulation, but flows as naturally as everyday life, so it is no wonder that some people often mistake Kore-eda's work for the flow of life.
Much of his work retains this unobtrusive complexity in form—the meticulous attention to detail, the tight control over the structure, but the way to hide these traces of artificiality.
According to the intention he wanted to express, Hirokazu Kore-eda carefully selected many details of his life and placed them in one work according to the logic of the script. But at the same time, it makes these details seem to be piled up in a messy way, like life.
At its core, the core of this approach is to make all the details important and irrelevant. It sounds contradictory and vague, what kind of details are important but irrelevant? This is actually very difficult, and only an author with a high sensitivity to life can accurately find such details in the complex reality.
For example, at the beginning of the film, my brother Hangyi walked to the balcony, shook off the volcanic ash on the rag, and then wiped the volcanic ash in the room one by one, which seems to be the most insignificant and natural daily detail, as if it exists in the world of characters without screening.
But in fact, the narrative function carried by this detail is by no means so simple. My brother's biggest wish is for his divorced parents to get back together and the family to live together again, so he hates Kagoshima living with his mother. However, Hirokazu Kore-eda did not let Hangji say that he hated Kagoshima in vain, but used volcanic ash as a narrative carrier.
Hangichi complained that the ash was noisy when it fell, and he didn't understand why people lived in places where volcanoes kept erupting.
Miracle" Some people may ask, why not let the child directly express his dissatisfaction, aren't the child innocent? This brings us back to character design. On the outside, the elder brother Hangyi is sensible and old, and the younger brother Ryunosuke has no heart and lungs, but in the matter of his parents' divorce, the younger brother is more mature, he remembers the endless quarrels in the past, and realizes that his parents should not come together again, but the elder brother has a great obsession with his parents getting back together.
A sensible child may not understand the choices of adults, but he is considerate not to make trouble, hide his wishes in the depths of his heart, and only complain about the volcanic ash from time to time.
At the end of the film, Hangyi walked to the balcony, stretched out his wet fingers into the air, and calmly said that there should be no volcanic ash today. He has accepted peace with the volcanic ash, but in fact, he has also subconsciously accepted the reality that his parents cannot be together.
Hirokazu Kore-eda's films are full of details like volcanic ash, which may seem trivial and inconsequential, but in fact they are extremely important.
2. Boundaries. Miracle may seem naïve, but it accurately incorporates the complexity of life and the world. The beauty of "Miracle" lies in its innocence rather than childishness, lightness rather than shallowness, brightness rather than straightforwardness.
On Hirokazu Kore-eda's film spectrum, "Miracle" is on the brightest side, "Nobody Knows" is on the darkest side, and "The Taste of the Yokoyama Family" may be in the middle. But the strange thing is that the heaviest and gloomy "Nobody Knows" and the lightest and brightest "Miracle" are precisely children's movies.
Is there a clear boundary between the complex world and the world of a simple child? Probably not. But in the process of growing up as an adult, there may be a vague area, where simplicity and complexity, naivety and sophistication, optimism and pessimism coexist, and can also be seen as a blurred boundary.
A children's movie, if it is simply a show of a carefree world that belongs to children, is a little simple and optimistic. But a children's movie from the perspective of ** seems a little pretended to be naïve. Therefore, good children's movies often stand on the border between the world and the world of children.
In Miracles, adults don't believe in miracles, while children believe that miracles happen: when two Shinkansen trains intersect and pass, a wish can be granted. Therefore, although the title of the film is "Miracle", no miracles have happened in the film from beginning to end.
When the puppy does not wake up after making a wish, the children understand that miracles do not happen, this is growth. This moment is cruel, but when they accept the good and bad things in this world, and see the diversity, they can understand that it is Hirokazu Kore-eda who says that life itself is a miracle. 」
In the film, this boundary flashes from time to time, such as the taste of lightness. It is a few scenes written by Hirokazu Kore-eda that are light-hearted and calm, and their meaning and blankness are almost comparable to the best dialogues of Takio Naruse.
The first time my grandfather asked Hangyi to taste lightness, Hangyi replied, the taste was a little light.
But on the night of the reunion of the two brothers, the elder brother gave the younger brother a light meal made by his grandfather.
Hangyi: Is it delicious?
Ryunosuke: The taste is a little light.
HANGICHI: Well, I thought so at first, but the more I chewed it, the more fragrant it became.
Ryunosuke: My brother has grown up.
At the end, Hangichi returns home and chats with his grandfather, who keeps his secret.
Hangichi: I'll give Ryunosuke a light soup you made.
Grandpa (eagerly): What does he think?
Hangyi: That guy is still young.
Grandpa: Haha, that's true.
Maybe growing up is to accept the coexistence with volcanic ash, that is, to understand the taste of light soup, the kind of taste that is not sweet enough in the mouth, faint, and the more you chew, the more fragrant it becomes.
The most important moment in the film is not the moment when the children shout out their wishes when the Shinkansen meets, but the empty montage that appears in the previous moment. This passage is both lyrical and narrative in the film.
This montage is simply a stroke of genius, with Hirokazu Kore-eda combining thirty empty shots to turn a moment that would not have happened a miracle into another miracle.
Light blue popsicles, crumbs of potato chips that the brothers scrambled, a 40° thermometer, neatly folded school uniforms, parent-child rice bowls entertained by strangers, strong hands of teachers, dead puppies in bags, coins under vending machines, volcanic ash falling on shoulders, a faint lightness, a beautiful teacher's car bell, cosmos driving in the wasteland, flags written on immature wishes, yellowed old **, hand-painted covers of Daddy's band.
Thirty empty shots are not only the innocent wishes of children, but also life itself, and more importantly, this infinite and vast world.
On the separate platforms, the elder brother Hangyi told his younger brother the reason why he gave up his wish: I still chose the world instead of home, sorry. 」
The moment when the Shinkansen intersected, the beautiful moments of daily life, those fragmentary but precious auspicious feathers in the growth, flashed one by one, the world entered his life from all directions, his world is no longer only himself, and he gradually began to understand the complexity and helplessness of life little by little.
Therefore, "Miracle" seems simple, but it contains a quiet depth. It is both childish and light, but it accurately reflects the vastness of life and the complexity of the world.