First things first: there are no cats in Leave the Cat Alone – but it probably won’t keep a certain feline-adoring, art-loving, tote-carrying demographic from embracing art-school graduate Daisuke Shigaya’s first full-length outing. Understated in its aesthetics but surprisingly sturdy in its emotional depth, the film will certainly resonate with millennials struggling with their hopes of nurturing sweet love, slow lives and sublime literary pursuits.
Effectively a chronicle of a three-day, two-night period in which characters reminisce over their past ideals and reconcile them with their present lives, Leave the Cat Alone is drenched with silent fury and regret – with matching sights and sounds. Steering clear of melodrama, Shigaya has delivered a poised and poetic exploration about how one creates – not just works of art, but also a matching mindset which might stimulate creativity in the most mundane of circumstances.
The film revolves around a trio of aspiring artists (and a close friend) whose careers are ebbing, flowing or simply lying dormant. Mori (musician Soma Fujii, who also provided the score and songs in the film) is a conservatory graduate who spends most of his time at home, fiddling with sound effects for commissions from video game producers while stewing over his inability to finish his own songs. In stark contrast, his wife Maiko (Ren Taniguchi) has moved on from her career as a model to become a sought-after photographer preparing for her biggest show to date.
There is a passive-aggressive bust-up – Shigaya, who also penned the screenplay, hints at a fling when Maiko declines her coded request for some intimacy. Then Mori runs into his former girlfriend Asako (Yukino Murakami). Through an intriguing flashback offering two versions of their past lives – the major difference being who took the initiative in starting the relationship years ago – the viewer is given the opportunity to compare their then and now. Adding to this mix is their best buddy Chika (Meiry Mochizuki), once the epitome of emotional stability and now running into problems on her own.
At one point during their reunion, Asako tells Mori she has stopped painting because great art could only come from great suffering. Given what the viewer is privy to, however, this bombastic romanticization of art simply doesn’t hold: emotional closure sometimes offers the opportunity for another new and creative beginning, as seen from Mori’s and Asako’s trajectory. Takahiro Sakata’s editing contributes to the unhurried, introspective vibe of the film, while Ryo Hirai manages to represent music, photography, painting and minimalist interior design in the most appealing of ways. Navel-gazing or not, the cool cats among the cinema-goers will certainly approve.
Director, screenwriter: Daisuke Shigaya
Producer: Hiro Itaya
Cast: Soma Fujii, Yukino Murakami, Ran Taniguichi, Meiry Mochizuki
Cinematography: Ryo Hirai
Editing: Takahiro Sakata
Art direction: Rat
Music: Soma Fujii
Sound design: Rentaro Syono, Syotaro Arakawa
Production companies: HUT Pictures Inc.
World sales: Nikkatsu
Venue: Busan International Film Festival (Competition)
In Japanese
102 minutes
