Haruhara-san's Recorder

Formally uncompromising and emotionally sensitive: a cinematic meditation on loss and bereavement in suburban Tokyo.

Writer-director Kyoshi Sugita was inspired by a tanka, or short poem, by Japanese poet Naoko Higashi, which enabled him to create his own form of filmic lyricism. There is no traditional plot here; instead, there’s an open, elliptical narrative, a torrent of fleeting moments in the life of Sachi, a young woman who attempts a new beginning after the death of her partner. She takes a job in a café and moves into a flat on the outskirts of Tokyo. With great calm and discretion, the camera observes how Sachi tries to cope with daily life despite the loss of her lover. Calmly and gently, the transience of human life echoes as a theme, while all dramatic events are rigorously excluded; this film finds poetry in the seemingly incidental. Like a tanka, it evokes the moment, and its unhurried pacing invites contemplation.

Director