[The fledgling Shinsedai Cinema Festival, programmed by Midnight Eye's Jasper Sharp and Toronto J-Film PowWow's Chris MaGee, hits a bulls-eye in showcasing unique and provoking independent Japanese Cinema. The New God, was certainly a highlight]
After watching the alleged hypocrisy of a few US senators in Kirby Dick's gay outing documentary Outrage and the oily charisma of Ted Haggard, as featured in Jesus Camp (before he was thrown out of his own mega-church for drugs and homosexual prostitutes) it does lend you to wonder how certain extreme personalities in positions of power crave the spotlight for their own twisted public therapy sessions. Right-wing political activist and ex-wrist-cutter Karin Amamiya may not have the reach of those influential white men, albiet she is somewhat of a youth icon currently in Japan, but she certainly comes across as loud and confusing and yes, quite interesting in Yutaka Tsuchiya's The New God. His film is the only philosophically political romantic comedy rockumentary that I am aware of. And I want more films in this zany new sub-genre!
Given a mini-DV camera, by the director to tape herself in private, Amamiya logs a series of video confessionals where she comes across as honest about her political intent. That it is more a form of therapy than actual real conviction (or deep thought), she expresses a desperate need to belong to something (anything!) and a yearning for history ("peace is boring!"), even if she has to single-handedly take Japan back to war with America herself! Both her and "New Revolution" bandmate, Hidehito Ito (also an Ultra-Right National) perhaps fail to see the irony of crying, 'down with America and the democracy they imposed on Japan,' whilst simultaneously puffing away on Marlboro cigarettes. But watching The New God is more compelling as a study of counter-culture Japanese youth than a less on politics and history (although there is a fair bit of that implicit here, and context is a tricky thing for western audiences). The director himself offers more than a few confessionals to the camera, combining and overlaying with Amamiya's own to build a 'He Said, She Said' romance of sort. The fact that Tsuchiya's politics are 100% opposite (He is of the quieter left-leaning side that thinks the Emperor is unnecessary and harmful to Japan, and Tsuchiya's previous film to Amamiya's or that he is making a documentary presents its own brand of hurdles, yet, the unspoken (at least face to face) attraction is there.
Amamiya's narcissism, personal conceitedness and pleas to be told what to think lead her to some strange places, like an attempt at re-creating a air-line hostage situation in which North Korean's whisked a plane full of Japanese citizens away to the Fatherland only to have them trapped there. Albeit she does this only by taking a flight to Pyongyang in the hopes that she will be stuck there. Yet when she arrives (director and camera along for the ride) she immediately wants to go home again or be a tourist. Yet after her sojourn there upon touching down on Japanese soil once again, she does indeed pine for the national spirit and collectivism that seems to be absent at home. "Please brainwash me," is a phrase she keeps coming back to. One would think that this would be intolerable (and likely for some it will be), yet there is a magnetism about Karin Amamiya. She is not afraid to look stupid because she wants some answers about her country and herself. She is not concerned about the how or where the answers will come from, and honesty does not seem to be a stumbling point either (candidly, these questions likely do not have answers), although there is an honest exposure in her video confessionals. She is selfish to enough to tell others what to do so they will listen to her, yet has an obsessive desire to belong to a group or community or, well, something! Possessing little sympathy or interest in minorities or other lost souls (indicating at one point that in a new group-think Japanese culture, minorities have no place, only the Japanese race), she seems to lack any sort of self-awareness to her tangled nest of contradictions. And it is hard to say things with conviction when you are naked (or at least up at 3am smoking and confessing to the camera).
Shot with grotty digital equipment; albeit probably halfway decent stuff in 1999, Tsuchiya nevertheless has some interesting framing of his characters and other film techniques, often involving juxtaposing two transparent shots to grasp at a concept or idea. Busy concert footage (although there seems to be few if no patrons at these shows) is mixed with a lot of people sitting at tables and smoking. A lot of heady political ideas are thrown around by people not quite smart enough to grasp what they are saying and having personal if vague motives for doing so. Same as it ever was. Yet, the time-frame, before 2001, begs the question of where Karin Amamiya is now and what she thinks. Despite her frustrating disposition, there is an interesting presence in front of the camera that made me want to spend time with her and her circles. The exciting and frustrating frappe of romance, political ideology and philosophy recalls the absurd comedy of I Heart Huckabees. Yet, amongst all the hubris, thoughtful in how anyone interacts with their personal beliefs, anxieties and more irrational impulses. Mix that with loud Japanese Trash-punk and you have something pretty unique.