QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN
The story begins in 1988, when Yamabuki is aged just eight, living with his misaligned sister Beni, his cheating father, his depressed mother, his aloof grandmother, and his big dreamer of a grandfather. During the course of the next 25 years, our protagonist (played by Mahiro Takasugi as an adult) and his sad and lonely relatives must come to terms with various losses and departures. Each one of them is left with a profound sense of guilt, and they all seek forgiveness in a different fashion. Self-forgiveness remains a lot more elusive. Yamabuki finds solace in an imaginary canine friend (the first animal in the film title). Central to the story is Seiji, Yamabuki’s younger brother who died as a small child under very tragic circumstances.
Emotionally wrought and alienated Beni breaks away from the family as soon as she can, reconciliation looks like an increasingly remote prospect. Yamabuki marries his second girlfriend Yori, but they are unable to conceive a child. Yori blames herself, in a behaviour symptomatic of a deeply misogynistic society where motherhood is compulsory, and women must carry the burden of parenthood virtually on their own. Fortunately for her, Yamabuki is a little more empathetic than the average male.
The story comes full circle when yet another death afflicts the family. A cremation ceremony is disrupted by an old ghost from the past, while offering the surviving characters the possibility of reflection, reconciliation and healing. Or perhaps the possibility of lying to one another (the second animal in the film title). The Imaginary Dog and the Lying Cat never opts for the exploitative, instead seeking to focus on the emotional and meditative. The conversations are long, and viewers are given ample opportunity to focus on the sullen faces of the characters. Unfortunately, this audience engagement does not come to full fruition.
At a whopping 125 minutes and with more twists and turns than a snake with an itch, this ambitious family drama neither rivets nor enraptures. The developments are extremely confusing. It’s likely that you will get lost in the labyrinthine plot on multiple occasions. Director Yukihiro Morigaki and screenwriter Tomoe Kanno do not portray various events (including the family’s most tragic chapter, the death of Seiji), instead having the character discuss them. In a coherent and cohesive movie, this would give viewers the chance to use their imagination and concoct the images of what may have happened insider their heads. Such isn’t the case here. It is extremely difficult to distinguish these never-to-be-seen incidents from loose ends and plot holes. To boot, some crucial scenes are notably stagey, and the cinematography mostly uninspiring. Takasugi’s performance is an exception: the young actor genuinely gets under the skin of his character.
The Imaginary Dog and the Lying Cat just premiered in the Official Competition of the 29th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival. Morigaki is now on his fourth feature film, after last year’s vaguely more effective Rude to Love (which premiered in Karlovy Vary).
