Arsenevich: Hiroshi Shimizu

[...] Nobuko es la nueva profesora de un internado de chicas que tiene que lidiar con una serie de problemas: su acento rural es motivo de burla entre las alumnas y, más concretamente, una de ellas, Eiko, se muestra particularmente indisciplinada. Cuando Nobuko se propone corregir su conducta se encuentra con un problema: Eiko es la hija de un hombre importante que hace sustanciosas donaciones a la escuela, de modo que el resto de profesoras no se atreven a enfrentarse a la chica.

A partir de esta anécdota, Shimizu da forma a una película que en la sencillez de su planteamiento va dejando entrever detalles bastante críticos con la sociedad de la época. De entrada, la diferencia de clases entre las chicas de familias acaudaladas que estudian en el internado respecto a las que deben estudiar para ser geishas (la tía de Nobuko tiene una escuela de geishas y una de las alumnas fantasea con otro futuro más prometedor). En siguiente lugar esa voluntad de tener estos dos mundos lo más separados posibles: cuando unas chicas de la escuela de geishas acuden al internado a traerle la comida a Nobuko provocan un pequeño alboroto que al final lleva a la directora a prohibir a Nobuko que siga en casa de su tía; no se concibe que una respetable profesora viva en un ambiente tan poco apropiado como ése. Y no obstante ambos mundos no están tan separados como ellos pretenden: Nobuko se mueve entre ambos (aunque la directora le advierte que debe disimular su acento, que delata su extracción social), y más adelante sabremos que la tía de Nobuko conoce al padre de Eiko (ese hombre acaudalado que sostiene la escuela) porque es un cliente de su casa de geishas.

Pero en vez de llevar su película hacia el terreno de la crítica social, Shimizu, fiel a su estilo más modesto, nos deja entrever estos detalles junto a otros que suponen un reflejo bastante acertado de lo complejas que son las relaciones humanas incluso en un filme tan aparentemente sencillo y sin muchas sorpresas: aunque simpatizamos enseguida con Nobuko como víctima, al final acabamos entendiendo que su obstinación por castigar a Eiko es más perjudicial que una solución; mientras que el hecho de que Eiko pierda la simpatía de sus compañeras nos hace ver lo crueles y asfixiantes que pueden ser estos ambientes de grupo cuando todo se le gira a uno en su contra.

Pero todas esas ideas, que desde luego no son nuevas para nosotros, aquí Shimizu las expone con ese estilo suyo tan característico en que prima la anécdota y se nota que disfruta de los pequeños momentos, como la excursión escolar al campo o las rutinas diarias del internado. La sensación que tiene uno viendo una película de Shimizu es de que, aunque al final haya un mensaje, no nos han sermoneado, sino que más bien hemos compartido por un rato esa visión tan humanista de su creador, quien se nota que siente un gran interés por sus personajes, tanto por sus virtudes como por sus defectos, y que da la impresión de ser una de esas personas que creía que todo hombre tenía también su lado bueno. Puede que películas como Nobuko no pasen a la historia, pero el hecho de que consiga contagiarnos esa visión que tenía su creador sobre las relaciones humanas es uno de los motivos por los cuales Shimizu me parece uno de los grandes cineastas a descubrir.___ Todo el texto tomado de El Gabinete del Doctor Mabuse

Renowned actress/singer Takamine Mieko stars as titular heroine Nobuko, a spirited young teacher working in a conservative school. Based on a novel by Shishi Bunroku, the film follows her experiences as she challenges the school with her liberal thinking and teaching methods.

"I’ve taken an unintentional break from Hirosh Shimizu for quite awhile now so I was a bit worried that I wouldn’t connect with this like I did with his previous efforts. Within the first few minutes, such fears were cast aside. While this is probably the Shimizu film with the worst print, it’s brilliance still shines through. Once again Shimizu crafts a formal brilliant little drama that appears so innocent and carefree on the surface, but is tragic and heartbreaking underneath. If I have any complaints at all, I’d say that it is a tad bit too gentle, which isn’t all that unusual for Shimizu. This is the sort of wonderful film I’ve come to expect from him.

The story here is very particular and atypical. After all, most of the plot’s forward momentum comes from the title character’s accent. Nobuko comes from out-of-town to become a teacher at an all-girls boarding school. She lives with her aunt, a geisha, which eventually causes some controversy with the school’s authoritative figures. Inside this geisha house, though, we see something very Shimizu-ian, a character whose tragedy is quickly approaching. The aunt’s daughter is destined, just like the reserved female character in Arigato-san, to pursue a career as a geisha, something she has little to no interest in. By the film’s end, this character seems pretty much unimportant, but she still is an example of those hidden tragedies woven within most of Shimizu’s work.

The main focus here is, instead, Mieko Takamine as the Nobuko. Takamine, unfortunately, has been generally forgotten but her performance here and in Shimizu’s Anma to onna gives us a wonderful taste of her talent. At first, she comes off a bit awkward with her greatly exaggerated accent, but I guess a lot of this could be blamed on the subtitle translation, which goes to great efforts to make it known that she clearly doesn’t talk like her teaching peers. I can’t stress my respect enough for Shochiku’s decision to make these films accessible to the English-speaking world, but perhaps some sort of short explanation on the differences in dialect would be helpful. This isn’t too much of a problem, though, as Nobuko quickly adapts to her surroundings, loses her accent, and becomes a much more interesting character overall.

I must admit, the “dark” turn the film takes in its final act is pretty surprising. Even if Eiko’s character “opening up” was predictable it is handled in a manner that isn’t the least bit old-fashion. At first, we see Eiko as the popular and likable troublemaker that has long been a headache for the school’s faculty. As most of the girls take a rise to Nobuko’s teaching style, Eiko continues to display her rebelliousness. It is then revealed that the school’s finances are supported by her father, thus explaining the staff’s resistance to “disciplining” her. It may not need to be mentioned, but such scenarios still happen in modern life. Nobuko is the first teacher to treat Eiko like the other students and when she does, Eiko turns to suicide.

This all sounds over-whelmingly melodramatic, but Shimizu somehow crafts it with such sincerity for his characters. The sequence in which Eiko disappears (to proceed in killing herself) we are never shown anything that is meant to manipulate the sadness of Eiko, but instead, a selection of static corridor shots complimented by the students calling for their peer. She is found and quickly taken to the hospital, where she essentially tells Nobuko why she is such a troublemaker. It is a bit too tightly put together, as it seems to explain away all of the character’s problems, but the sequence itself is so honest. Even as the film ends on a string on near monologues (first from Niko, then from her father, then from Nobuko) it doesn’t feel the least bit preachy. If the moral is that all kids want attention, than in my humble opinion, no amount of manipulation can water down the cause. At least not when it’s in Shimizu’s hands. What could have been the Japanese Dead Poets Society is instead, one of the truest meditations on life as a teenager and as a young adult." -- Jake Savage (Cinematalk.wordpress.com)