In My Father’s Room at the San Sebastian Film Festival.
Renowned Japanese author Maha Harada steps into directing with the film adaptation of her short story An Unnecessary Man (2020). Satomi (Yu Aoi) is employed as an attendant at a modern art museum, where she oversees a Mark Rothko painting (one of his red-and-black series).
When her mother, Shuko (Eri Watanabe), forgets her birthday, she quickly makes amends by inviting her to lunch, where light-hearted conversation and humor blend with Satomi's curiosity about her parents' divorce. Meanwhile, her father, Yuichi (Issey Ogata), has arranged for her to receive the key to his last residence on her birthday. Satomi embarks on an unexpected journey to uncover her seemingly distant yet never estranged father's final days. This quest becomes a path of self-discovery as she gradually pieces together his life: his passion for poetry, the ancient craft of tea bowl pottery, the associated tea-drinking ritual, and his deep love for his daughter. The film is structured with flashbacks skillfully interwoven with the present, making the non-linear narrative appear remarkably linear.
In a world dominated by profit, Satomi and Yuichi exist on the periphery. At work, Satomi is respected, yet her colleagues socialize without her, and she eventually faces redundancy. Yuichi spent his last year working in a local bookstore, lamenting, "In a year since I have been working in the bookstore, not a single book of poetry has come through my hands. Where is poetry nowadays?" This highlights his appreciation for the spiritual over the physical and suggests the world risks collapse without such a perspective. However, when Satomi discovers her father's published poetry book, her feelings of marginalization begin to fade, and the perceived distance between her and her father transforms into a profound sense of belonging. The film gradually reveals that, against all odds, four parallel stories - Satomi's, Yuichi's, the antique store owner's, and Sota's - unfold and intertwine, fostering a deep sense of connection that eradicates any form of senseless violence.
The cinematography and editing, with carefully composed long-duration shots and gentle pans, allow viewers to immerse themselves in the characters' emotional journeys. The film's soundtrack features Puccini’s ‘O Mio Babbino Caro,’ a poignant melody performed in orchestral or piano arrangements. This choice underscores the film's attempt to convey a touching tribute from daughter to father.
Poetry, pottery, and painting serve as conduits, just as the characters do, for reclaiming the significance of artistic expression and art. Four individuals find solace in art; through art, they discover a communion of intentions. They realize they are part of a community; whether they meet or not, the narrative of their encounter suggests that art offers refuge, and through it, we find a sense of belonging in a much larger, albeit invisible, community.
While the museum preserves indoor artworks as precious and unique, potentially creating a claustrophobic atmosphere, a recurring shot from the far end of the museum's corridor captures the green trees outside a large window, perhaps implying that the museum represents the inner world of each character, safeguarding their value and integrity. Yet the outside world is where one should also turn: it is where beauty is found in connecting with others who share a unique yet inclusive worldview. Indeed, Satomi begins meaningful dialogues about art and life with the museum's PhD student/curator Sota (Motoki Nakazawa), who finds solace in Satomi's gentle, respectful dedication to artistic expression and its worth in everyday life.
Through her father, she befriends an antique shop owner (Eita Nagayama) who sells old pottery bowls, leading Satomi to discover how her father found tenderness in sharing his appreciation for the tea ceremony art. The camera frequently focuses on the hands holding the bowl, a reminder of the tea drinkers before Yuichi and Satomi. The bowl serves as a tool for contemplation, a means to share emotions among rare, kindred spirits.
The film can be seen as an unconventional coming-of-age story. As an art curator, Harada combines her experiences in writing and visual arts to create a new craft: filmmaking. Even on different levels, Harada's journey mirrors Satomi's emerging voice and identity, a voice in continuous evolution.
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