Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman review

Blind woman sleeping willow review

It ostensibly follows two salarymen and their more magical realistic adventures.

Ennui and anxiety are furtive bedfellows for cinema, although it has come to the fore with many conversations with my other furry-something friends. I feel displaced by it as I’m more carpe diem; it’s a path I went through in my 20s and early 30s, and I’m more about agency than destiny in my life right now. But it’s nice to visit the office space crowd. We mainly centre on two guys at different positions in the same company and their concurrent adventures and forays into magical realism. Komura trying to reconnect with his wife and his lost cat. And the 44-year-old depressed singleton Katagiri who finds a sense of heroism to stand out with the partnership in heroism with ‘Frog’ nor my frog. Simply frog.

Consumed by the worm, kataguri needs a frog to get him out of it. The worm-like kaiju is a fantastical threat that is easy to fear than the healing process of an earthquake that has genuinely occurred. The commentary from survivors in the background pointing out the inadequate and irrelevant nature of these leads to fears

As one learns about literature and Hemingway, the film di leaves me wanting to learn more about Anna Karenina. Of the two, Katagirir is the more empathic and harmless.

The other journey, Komori’s, seems beset with Paul’s auster cliches and women as objects and cyphers for the unemotive man. to return to his love of lyricism and poetry. For teenage girls. Who would sadly be his muse in the reflection? And the dream of the cat. The wish of a dirty old hotel owner is predatory in his own way. The incessant pushing of an ingenue as a muse undermines the film’s impact. But eh younger man’s journey into impressionism and art is in the scenery and colours he meets. I feel like at any moment, even in a love parlour, Komoru’s going to turn to the camera and say

“I’ve got Buffalo ’66 on DVD.”

I mention this as it is a neat parallel to my feeling about this film. Neat. A bit old-fashioned in this one’s case. And certainly dated where the women are concerned. And if I had not seen it before in other forms. It could have been gripping. The search for the cat is almost Schrodinger, although the instead of khan elements of earworms did unsettle me.

Very much a film that would have worked in the late ’90s and more dubious in 2012, but as of 2023 hard to reconcile the unemotional angst of a man who, if it were not for the forgiving nature of animated styles, would be having sex with a considerably, younger woman

The sort of film you see when you thought you would get laid at university in some weird flat in the Sticks Circus ’97. Didn’t. And it’s Sunday morning, and you waiting for the buses to start running, so you end up watching it on video with some weirdly older guy while drinking all the Arabica and smoking all the gauloise an exchange student who was over friendly left on the table of the people you never met before. And the place has that dust smell, and you wonder if Jim Jarmusch is hiding behind the sofa with a cinecamera.

So yes, it’s more meditative than intellectual and has a cosy feel. But it’s not something I have not seen before, and during an exciting matinee Sunday, a flick. I met my friend Dec and his mate Jason. We had a brief beer in the member’s bar as they were doing alien day. They had seen the films before but never on the big screen. So they knew the beats but could really admire the execution. They asked me if I wanted to join them. But benign, it would be another two hours, and id be home at midnight. I said no.

As it is. Hungover musing when you want the feeling of being clever without effort.

One to stream.