Black Dreams

Confessions

Tetsuya Nakashima

Japan

2010

“Confessions” is a vigorous and intoxicating masterpiece of obsession, salvation, and revenge captured in a surreal atmosphere of a sleek nightmare. Tetsuya Nakashima demonstrates blazing ingenuity of transmuting the groundbreaking POV of the thriller classic “Crime and Punishment”—a thriller that has no much suspended expectation from the audience because all of the crimes that are yet to de done are being revealed on the protagonist’s POV, thus making the morality of crimes and punishments at the foreground—into a gripping cinematic experience I have not fully experienced yet. Making it to the January short-list of my favorite category at the Oscars, the Best Foreign Language Film category, this Japanese film shatters the much devoured genre of thriller and elevates it in a footstall the world is not too familiar about. Beyond any doubt, another great, stunning, and flamboyant film has been produced by one of the world’s leading cinema nation—Japan.

The narrative of this film is a breathtaking achievement. The series of confessions made by the characters involved in the story actuates the revelations and future retaliations with the thrust of a scorching wickedness and brilliance. Contrasting and POV-shifting overlaps can be observed in the said series of confessions which by rule of thumb creates a betrothing multiple layers of storytelling elements and consequently, through power-editing and direction, marks an outstanding evolution of the he-says-she-says plotline. Key element to the over-all intensity of the film is its connoisseur-sense assuring the presentation and repetition of the proper information at the most appropriate time. This series of confession started with the teacher Moriguchi (Takako Matsu), then with a female student who informed us what happened after the teacher left the school, to the replacement teacher and his pathetic effort to make the class alive, to the poor mother of Naoki, to Naoki (who turned to a grimy brainsick room child), to Shuya admitting the committed crime and another plan to commit a bigger crime this time. The film allowed us an ample and easy access to what the rest of the film is about and it gave us insights from the farthest to far, and to close and closest.  Just when you think that the teacher who gave us the presentation of what the crime is about has left, she just comes back at the increasingly more important part of the film-sabotaging Shuya’s plan, and moreover, this plot point push the film in one of the most bad-ass climaxes  I’ve ever seen.

 The subtlety of destitution of time, of space, and of existence is haunting and its intensity leaves me cowering for air. Everything feels as if they are coming from something so cryptic, a place where every human being’s mind is at its most truthful and vulnerable. The narrative in the film through a set of the main characters’ confessions makes the story occur not in the physical space anymore, the classroom, the pool, the laboratory etc, instead, in the anguished heads of these characters where they have just found the placidity to confide. This is conceivably the vision Nakashima foresaw, letting the characters emotional deluge move the story and create explosive twists in the mental make-up of these unbelievable characters. Another object of a particular confession’s dissemination is its conflicting nature with another character’s confession. This allows us to be situated in an objective position since a confession is largely subjective. In Naoki’s mother’s confession, the teacher’s statement, she mentioned about the inequity of Naoki’s mother saying “It’s unfair!” which she acknowledges as being unfair for his son as being accused of the crime. This instance bestowed prejudice to Naoki’s mother because we are being fed by the continuous torment of Moriguchi’s dialogues, by the lack of counteractions, and most importantly by the glare carefully given to her through the story establishment. This kind of dynamics makes a film engaging and intriguing, in fact, it is the same underlying dynamics I’ve found in the 2009 Iranian film “About Elly”, and probably with other drama-thriller films.  The POV is absolutely clever as it still paves way for the continuation of the story and clearly it is a brilliant evolution of the he-says-she-says structured movies.

 Aside from the obvious strutting of meticulous film editing and knock-out cinematography, “Confessions” has made itself a hatful of hip American and Japanese music. While this correlates substantially to the generation of the film’s characters, it also provides an occupying contrast to the dark and brooding austere film atmosphere. The threatening darkness and dullness of the visual treatment in each frame are of top surreal interpretation of a world of revenge and desperation. The noticeable use of aerial shots in any part of the film denotes an omnipresent POV and captures a massive amount of energy done by one human to another or to himself. These shots represent the vastness of human indifference and cruelty as it also provides variety to the seemingly tight and intangible narrative space.

“Confessions” is an exasperating marvel, a proof how the century-old medium of filmmaking can conceive a fruition of another glorious pedestal of achievement. Energy of the most astounding pureness resonates every single aspect of filmmaking—cinematography, film editing, sound design, music, and acting all contributing to a very stylized and furnished thriller genre.