Blood, 2022.
Written and directed by Bradley Rust Gray.
Starring Carla Juri, Takashi Ueno, Gustaf Skarsgård, Futaba Okazaki, and Issey Ogata.
SYNOPSIS:
After the death of her husband, a woman travels to Japan where she finds solace in an old friend, but when his comforting turns to affection, she realises she must give herself permission before she can fall in love again.
Sometimes a moderate, unassuming drama just hits the spot, and while Bradley Rust Gray’s (The Exploding Girl) new film sometimes threatens to become too elliptical for its own good, an attention-grabbing performance from Carla Juri, leading an appealing cast of predominantly non-actors, moors it in mostly the right place.
Chloe (Juri) is a widow who travels to Japan to work as a photographer, where she reunites with her old friend Toshi (Takashi Ueno). Toshi and his daughter Futaba (Futaba Okazaki) become an invaluable source of comfort and respite in Chloe’s quietly tormented life, still reeling with grief from her husband Peter’s (Gustaf Skarsgård) death.
Blood is a film entirely concerned with the barriers both exterior and interior which impede the formation of relationships either platonic or romantic. Despite their friendship, the canyon of understanding between Chloe and Toshi is palpable, neither being familiar in the other’s language, though Toshi’s English is certainly better than Chloe’s Japanese.
Chloe’s isolation in a foreign land is typified by numerous scenes throughout the film where she’s in the midst of a conversation in Japanese for which she can only occasionally chime in, whether illuminating with mild understanding at a certain phrase or waiting for someone to switch fitfully to English for her benefit.
But Chloe and Toshi’s growing bond is tough to deny; for her Toshi and his daughter are a salve, a distraction from her traumatic loss and a reminder that life goes on once loss has been processed. Unlike many other similarly-themed films, though, we can’t see the obvious ripples of the script’s reverberations throughout; everything here feels organically slice-of-life, even to the point that some may be left wishing it were a little more red-blooded.
This observational, naturalistic approach to story and character, where dialogues largely have the feel of following a loose script at most, forge a unique means to explore some fundamental aspects of being alive – the pain of sickness, death, and loss, but also the joy of love and discovery. There’s a charm and sweetness to even the most casual interaction between Chloe and her surrogate family, and it just might grow on you as they do each other.
There’s an easy tenderness here that’s not melodramatic nor thickly-laid in the slightest, with some of the film’s best and most vital moments being those which involve little-to-no speaking at all. In fact, the tenor is so calm and breezy that occasional, mildly discordant flashbacks to Chloe’s prior life with her husband, and dreams of his death that haunt her, feel almost jarringly unnecessary.
Still, this is a welcomely understated piece aesthetically-speaking, and Gray’s experience working as an editor certainly serves him well in fashioning a cool, meditative pace. There are perhaps a few meandering moments too many, and it doesn’t entirely earn that 111-minute runtime, but for anyone familiar with Gray or his filmmaker wife So Yong Kim (For Ellen, Lovesong) will know what to expect here.
Even though the unfussed, relaxed vibe is harmed slightly by those frustratingly vague flashbacks and a few on-the-nose metaphors – such as the visage of a broken bowl that’s been put back together but missing one piece (get it?) – the studiously composed performances keep it on terra firma throughout.
Juri, an on-the-rise actress since coming to prominence in 2013’s Wetlands, is magnetic as a woman putting on a brave face and only letting the mask slip occasionally to reveal the searing, tear-stained reality underneath. She suffers from dual loneliness, of bereavement and being in an unfamiliar land without knowing the language. Juri nails the fidgety awkwardness of a person sitting through conversations they don’t actually understand, possibly made easier by Juri herself not knowing Japanese.
If it’s Juri’s show, non-professional actor Takashi Ueno is also a sweet, calming presence as Toshi, a man with romantic designs on Chloe but unable to articulate this with confidence or clarity. The supporting cast is meanwhile filled out with charming appearances from actors and non-actors alike, most notably Issei Ogata, who plays translator Yatsuro. Yatsuro has a unique bond with Chloe due to his own wife suffering with cancer, though his peppy personality more often helps cheer Chloe up just when she needs it.
Gray’s film is an odd and interesting beast that clearly had the latitude to swing for something more expressively dramatic, but that’s evidently not how the filmmaker operates. This whittled-down approach works against the wider mysteries of Chloe’s life and past, but ensures the central romance feels unsteady and graceless in the ways that actual romance often does.
Low-key and meditative to a fault, Blood nevertheless glides on the air of its gentle rhythms and solid work from a skilled cast.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Shaun Munro – Follow me on Twitter for more film rambling.
