Hana Yori mo Naho

One of the marks of a great director is, of course, the ability to try—and effortlessly succeed at—doing something wholly unexpected of them. With the lighthearted samurai satire Hana Yori mo Naho, usually cinematically-somber Hirokazu Kore’eda (After Life, Maborosi) accomplishes the former. True, his films have never been depressing (they’re the opposite, if anything), or heavy-handedly serious; but I doubt anyone, least of all me, saw this coming. From slapstick to shit jokes, to gentle romantic comedy, Hana’s closer to Kitano’s Zatoichi than anything Kore’eda himself has done.

Our hero Soza (played nicely by Okada Junichi) is, to those around him, anything but: he’s residing in a tiny village, half-heartedly searching for his father’s killer (in order to avenge him via doing away with the perp), but mostly just wooing a local widow (Rie Miyazawa, of the loosely comparable Twilight Samurai) with a cute 8 year old son. Poking fun at samurai culture (more specifically, the 47 Ronin legends and such), and the senseless violence found in its “honor system,” the film is free of glamorized—or otherwise, for that matter—fight sequences. Kore’eda’s protagonist has as little interest in glorified revenge as the director himself. He even, along with fellow villagers, participates in a play parodying the rogue warriors.

It all sounds good on paper. Hana’s concept and values are certainly worthy of admiration. Kore’eda, however, doesn’t quite find his footing here: in spots where the comedy shines, the drama and realism are being overlooked—and vice versa. The film’s tone rarely resembles anything that could be called “even.” It also happens to be overlong (yes, it’s a period piece, but a lighthearted farce as well, and this length is unnecessary), lacking in the satisfying-conclusion department, and—perhaps an unfair criticism—it’s nowhere near as good as any top form Kore’eda film.

All of that aside, Hana is just the sort of film you could never hate. Unless you’re completely soulless, or something. If nothing else, it’s a charming diversion, and a captivatingly flawed experiment from an already established master. Underwhelming as it may be, it somehow makes me respect him even more.