Japanese Reviews Reviews

Film Review: Hush! (2001) by Ryosuke Hashiguchi

Ryosuke Hashiguchi pits the postmodern against tradition in an unconventional family drama.

's career parallels that of certain other directors who look at unconventional family scenarios as we moved into the new millennium. Though Hashiguchi's unconventional is always a little more unconventional than others, and 2001's “” is no exception.  

Hush is screening at Japan Society

Katsuhiro () and Naoya () are a gay couple in the early stages of their relationship and have just moved in together. One day, while having lunch at a restaurant, Katsuhiro offers his umbrella to Asako () who has just had hers stolen. This small act leads to Katsuhiro and Naoya's lives and relationship to take an unusual turn. Asako is a troubled woman with a history of mental health problems. She counters this by drinking heavily alone and having meaningless sexual encounters. Having already had two abortions as a result, a doctor suggests she maybe has surgery to stop this becoming a problem. This is the wake-up call she needs, and suddenly the idea of being a mother appeals to her…as does Katsuhiro's sperm.

Giving her his company umbrella, she tracks him down and is quick to put her suggestion to him. This sparks Katsuhiro's dormant paternal instincts and he in intrigued by the idea, much to Naoya and their families' protests. Naoya is brought round, but family values are more difficult to overcome, as the trio try to find a place for themselves in the world.

Hashiguchi takes on several subjects in “Hush!”. Initially, he touches on Katsuhiro's wishing to keep his sexuality hidden from work colleagues, painting a more conventional image for himself. Naoya is more open in his sexuality, frequenting bars and showing signs of affection in public. This is all done at a slow pace, with Hashiguchi making use of his long runtime to slowly build a picture of each character. Asako's life is a mess as she has seemingly lost interest in fulfilling any sort of societal expectations of how she should be and what she should become. With little soundtrack, we are gently brought into the worlds of our heroes.

The pace and action picks up once Naoya is happier with Asako now being part of his life. The soundtrack kicks in and we quickly fall into the realm of ménage-à-trois comedy. But we are brought out of this once family become involved and it becomes a more serious affair.

Naoya's mother and Katsuhiro's sister-in-law are deeply opposed to the whole idea, having been tipped-off by Katsuhiro's colleague. They dig into Asako's past and refuse to accept her bringing a new life into their family. Conservative family values are set-off against this post-modern family, with the importance of traditional structure and bloodline made clear.

And this is where Hashiguchi balances his arguments well. Naoya, while not to be involved directly in the planned birth, is the one most conscious of the baby's perspective. As a gay man, he has never considered becoming a father – perhaps a more conservative view – while Asako and Katsuhiro, the biological parents, seem more individualistic in their desire to become parents. Their thoughts are more about themselves and what becoming a parent will do for them as a saving grace or a way to conform to society's ideals.

The older adults talk down to them, as if they are children, barely allowing them a voice, and they take their role in the hierarchical structure. Katsuhiro's brother is sympathetic on discovering his brother's sexuality, but his sister-in-law and Naoya's mother are much more damning in their condemnation of Asako. As mothers, they cannot see her as fit to become one and won't accept their connection to it.

For these moments, Hashiguchi lets the camera roll and the scenes to play out to build tension. This does lead to awkward moments, but his script is strong and the dialogue always brings it back round to its point. With the slow pace, this creates scenes of realism and emotional intensity. Perhaps the older generation are right: the trio carry on with having a child as a childish fantasy than something that will ever become a reality. A child was never the central figure of the story. Instead, Hashiguchi balances a world where old meets new, with the old struggling to come to terms with the new world, but where it can still teach a thing or two.

About the author

Andrew Thayne

Born in Luton, Gross Britannia, my life ambition was to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. But, as I entered my teens, after being introduced to the films of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan (at an illegal age, I might add), it soon dawned on me that this ambition was merely a liking for the kung-fu genre. On being exposed to the works of Akira Kurosawa, Wong Kar-wai, Yimou Zhang and Katsuhiro Otomo while still at a young age, this liking grew into a love of Asian cinema in general.

When not eating dry cream crackers, I like to critique footballing performances, drink a beer, pretend to master the Japanese and Hungarian languages and read a book.

I have a lot of sugar in my diet, but not much salt.

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