The Mexican auteur’s debut feels like the work of a veteran, a tour de force exploration of mortality and desires as nature, sexuality and the spiritual commingle in a tale about a man hoping to commit suicide in a remote canyon.
Review #2,770
Dir. Carlos Reygadas
2002 | Mexico | Drama | 134 min | 2.88:1 | Spanish
Not rated – likely to be R21 for some strong sexuality, nudity and language
Cast: Alejandro Ferretis, Magdalena Flores, Yolanda Villa
Plot: A cynical and disillusioned man travels from Mexico City to a remote canyon to prepare for his death. There he stays with a pious elderly widow in her rickety home. Although only a few words are spoken, the widow’s quiet humanity incites a reawakening of his desires and instincts for life.
Awards: Won Camera d’Or – Special Mention (Cannes)
Source: Carlos Reygadas
Accessibility Index
Subject Matter: Slightly Mature – Suicide; Mortality; Sexuality
Narrative Style: Slightly Complex
Pace: Slightly Slow
Audience Type: General Arthouse
Viewed: Criterion Blu-ray
Spoilers: No
There are clear shades of Tarkovsky in this one. From the opening shot of cars moving on the road (a nod to 1972’s Solaris, maybe?), to the stupendous if somewhat nauseating final long take that recalls the virtuosity of Stalker (1979), to the honourable use of Bach’s ‘St. Matthew Passion’ on more than one inspired occasion, Japón is a young Mexican director’s first stab at a feature.
Carlos Reygadas is his name as he announces his arrival as a fully-formed veteran with a film that defies categorisation.
Despite only making five features in a 20-year career, Reygadas is one of the arthouse cinephile’s go-to contemporary deities. With the curiously titled Japón (which means ‘Japan’), he tackles themes of mortality and desires.
The premise is slightly reminiscent of Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry (1997)—a man wants to commit suicide but instead of finding a willing party to help bury him, here the protagonist is hoping to find a perfect spot where civilisation doesn’t exist.
“I’m going there to die.”
So, the unnamed man, a painter, travels from the city to a remote canyon, only to encounter an old, religious woman living alone in a farmstead, sparking desires he has never felt before.
A commingling of spirituality and sexuality, Japón takes the defeatist journey of a man and transforms it into an enigmatic tale of self-discovery.
Shot in 16mm in a rare 2.88:1 aspect ratio, Reygadas’ work is unique in its presentation, yet unlike Tarkovsky’s more composed, poetic style, there is a palpable sense of gritty realism. We feel the brutal environmental conditions—the sweltering heat, torrential rain, and vertigo-inducing mountainous routes.
Perhaps ‘Japón’ is meant to be a linguistic geo-cultural metonym for hara-kiri? A fantasised imaginary where one can kill oneself with dignity?
Well, it isn’t that far-fetched an association as a cursory glance at the world map would reveal that the shapes of Mexico and Japan appear to be mirror images of each other.
Grade: A-
Trailer:
Music:
Eternality Tan 