JFF Confessions Review

Confessions (Kokuhaku) screened recently in Melbourne as part of the 14th annual Japanese Film Festival.

Confessions wastes no time getting straight to the point. The immediate scenario is a claustrophobic schoolroom; hues of blues and blacks mix as the homeroom teacher walks back and forth calmly telling a very dire, disturbing and truthful story. Her self-obsessed class barely pays attention, only replying occasionally with some ignorant comments. The colours are complimented by a one-note music track that can be faintly heard over the loud banter. Beyond this is the quiet confession voiceover mixing in the relevance of what she is saying by using quick background clips for characters we barely know but soon will.

She continues talking, the topic broaching the seriousness of life. The harsh shriek of the blackboard as she finishes the character stroke of 'life' with her sharp chalk snaps the class to attention. These bitter, twisted and vain young people who are clearly an overblown analysis of today's self absorbed generation Y are now fully aware of every word from her mouth. She has declared a murder and from her rambling the details begin to emerge.

The structure, mood and pacing of the majority of the film is established from the opening scene and is a far cry from the equally depressing life of Nakashima's Matsuko from Memories of Matsuko; a vibrant affair that used ultra-bright colours even in depressing and violent scenarios. This time the palette is more fitting to the atmosphere; dull, subdued and sedated but it also bursts with pulses of negative energy. The music comes to life at these moments and the murkiness and fog of despair is temporarily lifted. The predominately English soundtrack is very disarming; at worst it is heavy handed, and at best works as a sinister whisper.

There is a sickness in Gen Y; unfortunately that concept is over-analysed here, employing the excuse of various types of 'complex'. Regardless of this, none are truly innocent in Confessions. Much like Sion Sono's brilliant Suicide Club, there is the same sort of sick playfulness that can be identified as cruelty. People are used and abused, the flashbacks from each confession play out like a lucid dream, they overwhelm with the heaviness of the situation and the extremity of each characters madness and trauma. This is achieved using slow motion, repeated sequences, and a fisheye mirror reflection. This stylish ode to depression often feels like a very long experimental music video and while not really detracting from the experience instead creates an engaging slow-burn effect.

"Our class is messed up" states one of the confessors. There are in fact five confessions broken up by their own bias perception of what has been, the horrible murder and what caused it, even delving to the root of the complex of both murderers, in fact all five of them are 'messed up'. The initial confession is only the beginning as malevolent long term revenge is put into effect as the details emerge; unfortunately this is where Confessions begins to fall under the weight of its own heavy melodrama. Between each character screaming and losing their mind it is clear that this cannot really be taken seriously. Although disturbing child crime happens it is taken to almost ridiculous levels as each confessor's scenario degenerates into the most hopeless scenes possible. There is however many important issues that are tackled throughout the ordeals; bullying, antisocial behaviour and in a very original and bizarre twist even HIV is given some social commentary.

The world of Confessions is ultimately an unreality; a whole class comes together to wish a student dead, to create bullying games that rack up points and to use the internet to dish out creative torture and to worship family killers. If the depravity and overblown plot were taken down a notch this could have been a subtle and effective example of just how broken some aspects of society, particularly Japan's, truly are. But there is no restraint and is it stands Confessions is an unbalanced social commentary; equal parts poignant and ridiculous, but ultimately engaging enough and worth the watch.