Okay, confession time. Back in my formative Uni years, my cinematic heart belonged to the French arthouse scene. A thoughtful gaze into the unknown by Irene Jacobs in Three Colours Red was my happy place but when I tentatively dipped my toes into the waters of South East Asian arthouse cinema, I wasn't quite feeling the same pull. I'd journeyed through the powerful landscapes of Kurosawa and loved it, but the more contemporary offerings from many of these nations just weren't clicking…then came Picnic.
This quirky little film about psychiatric unit inmates taking a wall-adjacent day trip was… okay. It wasn't setting my world on fire but then, about halfway through, an instrumental track washed over a particularly striking piece of cinematography then… something shifted. That yearning piano and synth melody, Remedios' Walk on the Clouds, became the soundtrack to my wistful moments. Suddenly, I got it.
That track sent me down a rabbit hole, and before I knew it, I'd devoured Shunji Iwai's entire filmography. What struck me most about his work is this incredible sincerity, particularly in his portrayal of youth. Forget the overly articulate teens of American dramas or the constant witty banter. Iwai's characters feel real. Their emotions are raw, sometimes messy, and utterly believable. He trusts his audience, allowing scenes to breathe, letting the evocative music carry the emotional weight without needing a deluge of dialogue or clunky exposition. It’s like he understands the unspoken language of feelings.
Take Love Letter, for example. The winter cinematography is simply stunning, painting a landscape of both beauty and melancholy. And that ending? Seriously, could a scene be any sweeter? It's a moment of pure, understated joy that just melts your heart.
Then you have Swallowtail Butterfly. This film is on another level – a legitimate epic, but told with that distinct Iwai touch. It's ambitious, unique, and completely captivating. He weaves together disparate storylines and characters into this sprawling tapestry that somehow feels both grand and deeply personal.
Iwai's films also subtly highlight social issues, not with a heavy hand, but woven into the fabric of the narrative. It adds another layer of depth to his work, making you think beyond the immediate story.
After falling in love with Iwai’s work, I ventured forth and tried out other creatives whose works I hadn’t truly appreciated - through this I found the works of Wong Kar Wai, Zhang Yimou, Park Chan-Wook and Takeshi Kitano.
So, if you're like me, a lover of thoughtful cinema perhaps hesitant about venturing out of your comfort zone, take a chance on Shunji Iwai. You might just find yourself unexpectedly captivated by his honest storytelling, his stunning visuals, and those unforgettable musical moments that linger long after the credits roll. You might even find your own ‘Picnic’ moment that opens up a whole new world of cinematic beauty.
