“You better start working, Kimi”, the helmer is told by her grandfather, the 95-year-old Tom who lives alone in his family house in Honolulu after the passing of his wife. He is skeptical about the filmmaking business which for him isn't something that can bring financial security. A more ‘concrete' job would be the ideal solution. “While you are waiting for financing, you are wasting your life”, he insists. Tom is in favor of practical thinking, and of the Japanese sense of obligation, and less of the emotional stuff unless he is asked to give his opinion about his granddaughter's script for a new film.
95 And 6 To Go is screening at Metrograph at Home
Robust and barely passionate about anything except for old records, dancing and movies, Tom is calmly answering questions about the past asked by his granddaughter. It's the conversation per se that becomes the glue between the two, as it offers a fertile ground for the exchange of thoughts about love, marriage, grief and the passion for life. In the old man's mind, there is no doubt that he will get hitched again to a woman who will take a good care of him, and not to someone like his friend whose spouse robbed him of all property. After all, he is a good dancer and dying alone is not an option. And when asked about his late wife, Kimi Takesue's grandmother, he refuses to reveal his genuine feelings, at one point even trying to deny the true nature of their relationship. This constructed revision of past will crush once the older footage appears, and the whole narrative changes when we are presented with her side of the story.
The strength of Takesue's documenary lies on her ability to connect two exciting parts of history: the one of a personal nature, and the one regarding the small Japanese community that emigrated to Hawaii in the 1910s. As we are slowly being introduced to that part of the history barely talked about, whether in books or films, unpretentiously told, stripped of moral lessons or hard feelings, a larger picture emerges.
It is impossible to script a documentary such as “95 And & To Go” full of surprises ensued through a series of spontaneous questions and even more spontaneous thoughts on Takesue's script, uttered by Tom. It's such musings that cast a completely different light on a man who is otherwise not very good at showing emotions. The camera follows him as he goes about his daily chores, showing him in surprisingly fit physical condition and clear mind in the most mundane situations.
The boxy apple pro-res ratio gives “95 And 6 To Go” a vintage look, enhanced by the soft colour palette and the stable camera work handled by the helmer, who also dealt with the editing. The love and connection the granddaughter and grandfather feel for another is nicely done through the contrast of their respective personalities.
Takesue's second feature length movie is a lesson in smart and warm documentary filmmaking, whose beginning is equally impressing as its ending: full of warmth, and understanding for a loving family member, as difficult as they may be.
