Film Review

お引越し (1993) SHINJI SOMAI

Ren is moving, whether she likes it or not. Her father has left the house, the divorce papers are soon to be signed, and her mother is drafting new rules for them to live by. These realities settle in throughout the film, some far more painful than others. Sometimes she keeps moving, and other times she has to lay down in the ashes of what she left behind. The pains of growing up, and bearing the weight of what she didn’t ask for are only beginning to fall on her shoulders. Yet, she moves all the same. Walking, running and in the very end with a jovial stroll through those in her life. 1993’s お引越し (Moving) comes as a late career entry into Shinji Soumai’s filmography. His films are difficult to track down and have not gained a ton of notoriety in the west. However Soumai has a varied and intriguing body of work. Moving is a story of divorce, centering primarily on 5th grader Ren who confronts the challenges of divorce through the film. Tomoko Tabata anchors the movie with her dynamic and effortless performance as the 11 year old. Set in a tranquil, domestic Kyoto, Ren is being pulled by mother and father, and between times in her life.

Caught between her parents, the movie is firmly set behind Ren’s experience of the separation. Her mother quickly lays out more and more expectations that Ren is to bear; grocery shopping, doing the house’s laundry, and always making time for conversation. Through Ren, we get glimpses of her mother and father, and of Ren herself. Her father drinks, and seems to be detached from the first frame. While her mother slowly detaches more throughout the film. Her parents are frustrated, and constantly disconnected from Ren’s experience. They seem almost unable to interact with their daughter, only pursuing the idea of the young girl. What results is a girl that is alone, unperceived, and trying to comfort herself. Hard enough for anybody, especially a child. Near the end, Soumai enters a realm of abstraction and surrealism effortlessly. A previously quiet score comes to the forefront, as he articulates Ren’s loss and grief through beautiful flowing camerawork. The loss from when we THE AKITAN move from childhood to adulthood, and how those fires can be flamed by people out of our control. There are embers and ashes left, but what went up in flames cannot be had again. Ren’s childhood is a finite thing, she may look back again, and cry for what’s left behind but it will be washed away with time. Moving is not always easy. The film portrays the grief, the frustration, and the anger that comes when something is taken away. In the end, Ren congratulates herself. Congratulations for moving on, growing up, and ultimately letting old times be washed away. Both heartbreaking and mature for her to move on, to have strength, to acknowledge the grief. People come and go, and change comes for Ren as well as the rest of us. She doesn’t stay a child, and she couldn’t if she tried. She fights it, and she certainly didn’t ask for it but she moves on, and she tries to find new happiness.

おめでとうございます