[ Directed by ]
[ Produced by ]
[ Cast ]
• OKABE Seiji KASHIWAGI Shin
• AOYAGI Fumiko AOKI Tanako
• UCHIDA Chika KOMOTO Natsu
[ Staff ]
• Screenplay: IMAIZUMI Rikiya
• Cinematography: IWANAGA Hiroshi
• Sound Recording: NEMOTO Asuka
• Editor: IMAIZUMI Rikiya
• Music: TRIPPLE FIRE
[ Production Company ]
[ Distributor (Japan) ]
Release Date: May, 31st, 2014
Running Time: 120 min
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance, Feature
Screening Format: Blu-ray
Screen Size: Cinema Scope (1:2.35)
Sound Processing: Stereo
Screening Format with Subtitles
[ Story ]
Romantic comedy featuring an array of love affairs involving twelve young men and women, including a two-timing film director, an idol on the verge of marriage, and a guy who is obsessed with idols. Directed by Imaizumi Rikiya, who won the 12th Transilvania International Film Festival’s Best Directing Award for I Catch a Terrible Cat.
A guy and girl who are together despite not liking each other, and a couple who mistakenly thinks that love means being hurt by your partner… Twelve youths confused about love contemplate what it means to “properly love someone.”
[ Official Site ]
[ Film Festivals, Awards ]
• 2013 Tokyo International Film Festival, Japanese Cinema Splash
The author of the successful surreal comedy Koppidoi neko (Catch a Terrible Cat, 2012), centered on a 60-year-old writer, an introverted girl and the colorful humanity surrounding the two, and of several documentaries, short films and television series episodes (including Sailor Zombie, 2014), Imaizumi Rikiya seems to be one of the emerging names of the latest Japanese cinema. His Sad Tea, in the choral intimism, in the prevalence of interiors and scenes of dialogue, in the intersection, sometimes casual, of different characters, in a narrative course that recalls that of a sit-com, can become part as also notes Mark Schilling of a sort of ideal sentimental trilogy on contemporary Japanese youth, is together with the already reviewed Ai no uzu (Love’s Whirlpool, Miura Daisuke 2014) and Koi no uzu (Be My Baby, Ohne Hitoshi, 2014). Unlike the films by Miura and Ohne, this one by Imaizumi is totally free from a sexual dimension, in an attempt to concentrate exclusively on the purely sentimental dimension. The case was in the Platonic bond between the two protagonists of Koppidoi of human relationships.
Among the different stories that are intertwined in the film, emerge those of the young screenwriter Shin unable to understand which of the two women he attends is the one he really loves (admitted that he really loves someone) that of Waseda who leaves the girl with whom she is engaged on her birthday, because she was just infatuated with a shop assistant’s shop those crossed by an ex-pop idol and a fan of his who for ten years claims to be in love with her.
If the beginning of the film is catchy in its dreadful comedy, the young employee of a bar unexpectedly declares his love to the oldest owner of the place where he works, and then tells everything to his wife, pretending that the woman is flattered by fact that he likes to others his pursuit ends up taking himself too seriously, pretending to draw a sort of atlas of contemporary youthful love made of uncertainties, hesitations and long silences to two – often taken up in equally long fixed sequence plans – interrupted by rather trivial phrases such as: «I do not know who I love and who I do not love», «I am confused about what love is», «What does it mean that you love me?». That’s more or less the questions that we all do, already knowing the impossibility of finding an answer (if not perhaps through a vignette of Schulz).
Undoubtedly effective, however, some of the expressive solutions that cross Sad Tea: the prolonged circular stroke of Asahi that opens the plot (and then returns on another occasion by preparing the final of the story), with an intriguing game of entries and exits of field, is a more than metaphor of the next vain, continuous and equally ‘circular’ questioning about what is the love of the different protagonists of the film; the look in the car of a character followed by the analogue of another character, who is in a different space and time, visually creates an analogy between the two that the development of different situations may or may not confirm; when the young screenwriter finds an uncomfortable guest at the home of his official girlfriend, but manages to create a certain intimacy with the woman, despite the improper presence, the third character fades through a sort of fading (a solution dear to Shimizu’s films Hiroshi of the thirties), leaving the free field to the two protagonists. These are, like other audiovisual solutions present in the film, to witness the considerable potential of the young Imaizumi, which we will certainly find again in his next works.