‘Happyend’ Review: Friendship Isn’t Future-Proof in a Poignant Surveillance-State Allegory

As a movie reviewer who’s spent a good chunk of my days lost in the silver screen world, I can confidently say that “Happyend” is a film that resonates deeply with our times. Japanese director Neo Sora masterfully paints a picture of a near future that feels eerily familiar yet chillingly different. It’s not often you find a movie that makes you feel both hopeful and anxious about the state of the world, but this one does it effortlessly.

Japanese filmmaker Neo Sora isn’t a doomsday predictor; instead, the bleak dystopia he portrays in his captivating debut film “Happyend” is alarming because it may not require a cataclysmic event to occur. In a future that’s only a stone’s throw away from our present, filled with many of our current struggles and an ominous yet non-immediate sense of apocalypse, his teenage characters grow up just as they always have. The difference is that in this setting, there’s an added poignancy to their coming-of-age, as they navigate the end of a new beginning in what could potentially be the start of the end times.

Tomorrow within Tokyo’s cityscape, adorned with curving concrete and towering skyscrapers that carry a slightly lifeless feel (possibly due to much of the filming being done in Kobe), the principal of a high school, Shiro Sano, finds distress upon waking up to see his cherished sports car flipped onto its back, sitting like a vibrant yellow monument amidst the gray expanse of the school courtyard. The students stare at it in amazement – it might as well be a Banksy piece – but this youthful mischief, captured by cinematographer Bill Kerstein in one of his elegant, composed tracking shots, is labeled as an act of “terrorism” and serves as justification for the installation of a strict surveillance system.

The entire student population is being held accountable for the misdeeds committed by only a select few. It’s these particular individuals who raise suspicion, and rightly so, given that they are a notorious group of rowdy final-year students, including Kou (Yukito Hidaki) and Yuta (Hayao Kurihara), who have been inseparable since childhood. Alongside Tomu (Arazi), Ming (Shina Peng), and Ata-chan (Yuta Hayashi), they make up a close-knit gang that enjoys underground music, and they consider the school’s well-stocked music room as their own domain, using it as their base of operations.

Fitting the legacy of his late father Ryuichi Sakamoto, who was the director of the acclaimed documentary “Ryuichi Sakamoto: Opus,” Sora holds a deep, yet quiet conviction in music as a powerful symbol of emerging individuality, which often challenges regimes that rely on conformity and obedience. Initially, Kou and Yuta illegally enter a techno club by sneaking in from the back. However, their unauthorized entry doesn’t last long, as the police raid the club. During the chaos, the DJ they admire secretly gives them the remainder of his set on a USB drive. In essence, he seems to be passing on to them the responsibility of preserving the pulsating rhythm of counterculture defiance.

This is a story about a project that doesn’t particularly captivate the privileged rebel, Yuta, who is portrayed alongside the excellent score by Lia Ouyang Rusli, which shifts between grand electro tunes and soft piano notes without ever overwhelming the narrative. The focus of Sora’s all-encompassing gaze gradually shifts towards the connection he shares with Kou. Despite being from a family of undocumented immigrant Koreans, Kou faces more risks when interacting with authorities compared to his friend Yuta. However, their social status is not the only factor that pulls them apart. Kou also develops feelings for Fumi, a quiet, intellectual girl in his year who associates with an activist group. Kou becomes involved with this group and experiences personal growth, while it’s Yuta, who appears to be the more rebellious, who ultimately proves to be the timider one. As everyone around him evolves, Yuta secretly wishes for things to remain unchanged.

In the not-too-distant future, detailed explanations of novel technologies or foreign cultures are minimized in Sora’s screenplay, as the world depicted feels strikingly similar to our own, just with a few more refinements. Smartphones serve dual purposes, acting both as everyday tools and tracking devices; facial recognition technology is prevalent, allowing authorities to instantly access an individual’s details when their face is captured by security cameras. However, Sora also highlights the irony that while oppressive regimes may seek to control the youth through these technologies, it will be the young who truly comprehend them best. Despite restrictions, the spirit of rebellion among the youth remains unbroken, always finding ways to circumvent rules and regulations. This optimistic outlook towards the resilience of the younger generation, coupled with a bittersweet melancholy for those we lose during our personal growth journeys, gives “Happyend” an innocent, perhaps even naive, quality. Yet, in today’s increasingly complex world, such simplicity might be precisely what we require to navigate it.

2024-09-23 03:16

‘Happyend’ Review: Friendship Isn’t Future-Proof in a Poignant Surveillance-State Allegory

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