For their 28th annual KidFilm Festival, USA Film Festival paid tribute to Studio Ghibli by screening 10 of its films, plus Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind which was made before the studio’s founding. Since The Secret World of Arrietty was sold out, I decided to catch Pom Poko with some friends. I had heard some odd things about the film and wasn’t sure what to expect.

Pom Poko , directed by Isao Takahata (Grave of the Fireflies), revolves around a group of tanuki, or Japanese raccoon dogs (incorrectly called “racoons” in the dub), who have banded together to face the transformation of their forest in Tama Hills into a suburban neighborhood. They cook up various ideas to reclaim their homes, ranging from sabotaging construction sites to tracking down legendary tanuki for assistance. Eventually the fun-loving tanuki have to come to terms with the harsh reality and learn to adapt to the changes around them.

The tanuki in the film appear in various forms: animal, mythical creature, and cartoon. In the presence of humans, they look much like their real-life counterparts. Amongst one another, they assume anthropomorphic forms with personality traits based on the lazy shape-shifting tricksters of Japanese folklore. When they get carried away with their emotions and behave ridiculously, they become even less realistic with their appearance based on characters of manga artist Shigeru Sugiura. The audience gets to see the tanuki in all its forms: animal, myth, and cartoon.

Click here to read the rest of the review.

"The wintertime beauty of the Tonomine highlands in Hyogo prefecture is a sadly haunting visual expression of Naoko’s isolation and loss of life. One only wishes the characters were as compelling as the landscape in which they find themselves."

By Lyle Sylvander (Yokohama-shi, 2001-02) for JQ magazine. Lyle is entering a master’s program at the School of International and Public Affairs at Columbia University (MIA 2013) and has been writing for the JET Alumni Association since 2004. He is also the goalkeeper for FC Japan, a New York City-based soccer team.

Haruki Murakami’s novel Norwegian Wood 「ノルウェイの森」 was published in Japan in 1987 and propelled the author to superstar status, especially among the nation’s youth. The novel was also an international success and the first English translation (there were eventually two) introduced Murakami to the U.S.

Unlike his other well-known works, such as Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Norwegian Wood eschews surreal and Kafkaesque sensibilities in favor of a more nostalgically sentimental narrative. It tells the story of love and loss from the vantage point of its 37-year-old protagonist, Toru Watanabe, looking back on his youth as a student during the 1960s.

As in Europe and the U.S., Japan at that time was a society in flux and the establishment was being challenged by idealistic student movements. Against this backdrop, Toru falls in love with the emotionally troubled and fragile Naoko, who sinks into a deep depression after the suicide of their mutual friend Kizuki. She leaves the university for a mountainous sanitarium and during her absence, Toru has a love affair with Midori. Eventually, Naoko succumbs to the darker nature of her illness and commits suicide, sending Toru into an emotional period of bereavement, after which he can commit emotionally to Midori and continue on with his life.

The film version retains Murakami’s plot while dispensing with the flashback framework. Toru (Kenichi Matsuyama) narrates the film from some unspecified point in the future but the story unfolds in real time without the illuminating knowledge that hindsight and age allow. Unfortunately, Toru’s coming-of-age tale lacks emotional depth and one feels that a stronger film could have been made from the novel.

Curiously, the film is written and directed by the French-Vietnamese filmmaker Tran Ahn Hung, most famous for The Scent of Green Papaya (1993). That earlier film was notable for its poetic visuals and subtly contemplative atmosphere—a tradition inherited from modernist European filmmakers that continues today in the work of certain  Asian auteurs, such as Thailand’s Apachitpong Weerasthakural.

Hung seems a strange choice for Norwegian Wood and his style is at odds with the emotional undercurrents of the story. Actresses Rinko Kikuchi (Naoko) and Kiko Mizuhara (Midori) perform their roles well but one can almost feel the director’s hand in restraining the full range of emotions in the characters’ roles. Matsuyama’s performance, however, is shallow and distant and often relies on voice-over narration to reveal his inner emotions. Hung’s script is also streamlined and expository, documenting events as they happened without illuminating them.

On the positive side, Hung and his cinematographer Mark Lee Ping Bin have shot a beautiful film and make full use of the P2 digital format. Sunsets, snowfalls, oceans and wide expanding forests are all shot with exquisite detail. Hung is also a master of mise-en-scène, constructing his images meticulously and blocking his actors expertly within the frame. The wintertime beauty of the Tonomine highlands in Hyogo prefecture is a sadly haunting visual expression of Naoko’s isolation and loss of life. One only wishes the characters were as compelling as the landscape in which they find themselves.

Norwegian Wood is now playing at New York’s IFC Center through Jan. 24. For more information, click here. For additional U.S. screenings, visit the film’s homepage at www.norwegianwoodmovie.com.

"This whimsical compilation of cartoons that appeared previously in JETAA publications worldwide is likely to hit the funny bone of both former and current program participants alike."

By Sharona Moskowitz (Fukuoka-ken, 2000-01) for JQ magazine. Sharona works at a literary agency in New York City. She is interested in fresh, new voices in fiction and creative nonfiction.

Flexibility and a sense of humor have long been predictors of a successful JET participant. And with good reason. After all, let’s face it: life in Japan for a gaijin can range from the frustrating to the absurd to the downright hilarious, often within the same day.

The malleable young JET is expected to smile and wear a variety of hats placed upon his or her head in the name of “international exchange.” For most JETs, it’s what happens in between the lines of the job description that makes the experience so meaningful.

Who better to capture the flexible thinking and sheer comedy of the JET experience than a former participant himself? JET alum and professional illustrator David Namisato (Aomori-ken CIR, 2002-04) showcases some of the more memorable aspects in his new book Life After the B.O.E. This whimsical compilation of cartoons that appeared previously in JETAA publications worldwide is likely to hit the funny bone of both former and current program participants alike.

Each cartoon presents a different familiar scenario. There is the moment of sudden awareness when it becomes all too clear to the ALT that he or she is more of an exotic show-and-tell object than a real teacher, a realization that can be disappointing, underwhelming, or just a huge relief, depending on who you ask.There is also an amusing rendering of an imagined meeting of serious Japanese bureaucrats deciding on the interpretation of Western holidays, wherein one decides that Halloween shall be officially sanctioned “a day to celebrate cute furry animals.”

With his bold colors and witty captions, Naimsato covers many of the universal experiences that stand out for most of us and he manages to remind us of some that we may have forgotten about—or conveniently repressed—for that matter.

Life After the B.O.E. the Book is available now at Amazon.com and CreateSpace. Read an exclusive JQ interview with David about the book here, and visit his homepage at http://namisato.org.

Tokyo-born songwriter Mio Soul makes her debut with In My Skin.  The EP contains the heavy drum beats and smooth melodies of contemporary R&B with flavors of pop, dance, and jazz.  Simple yet candid, the lyrics are in English, except for the rap in “Let’s Party” where Mio effortlessly flows in and out of her native language.  “Promise” chronicles Mio’s pursuit of her dreams in New York City and features sensual vocals complemented by airy piano trills.  The final track, “Out of My Life”, takes a complete 180 from the sweetness of “I Wish” in the beginning.  Mio engages an ex-lover in a showdown with passionate vocals and sexy Spanish guitars.  Even though she sings that her “story’s ended” for that person, it has only just begun in the music world.

I had the opportunity to ask my fellow biologist via email about her career change, the “I Wish” PV, and her involvement with music-related charities.

What made you change from being a biologist to a musician?

When it comes to biology, I had a huge influence from my father. My mom, however, is a pianist, so music was always around me as a child.  In college I was so curious about the connection of brain function and soul (heart)…I enjoyed all of the field work. I did, however, want to do music more than anything else.  I started performing more and attending singer and dancer showcases, and these live performances just really fueled me to continue pursuing music.

Science is a real academic thing.  You use instruments and theories to find the truth.  When it comes to music, singing or making beats is the art of using your own instrument (your body and soul) to express your truth.

Did you have any formal vocal training?

Yes, I had two amazing vocal coaches since moving to NYC: Stacey Penson and Jamelle Jones.  The best vocal training was…wait, should I mention this secret?  I can give a hint: it has to do with going to church on Sunday.

Click here to read the rest of the interview

'Kutsukake Tokijiro' runs through Nov. 27 at New York's Flea Theatre. (Courtesy of Kurotama Kikaku Company)

By JQ magazine editor Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) for Examiner.com. Visit his page here for related stories.

Mounting a 1920s Japanese gangster play with J-pop flavored fillips may seem like a tough sell, but the new Off-Off-Broadway production of Kutsukake Tokijiro is a successful hybrid that should appeal to fans of “world” stage productions.

Opening last week at Tribeca’s Flea Theater and running through Nov. 27, Kutsukake Tokijiro (if you can pronounce it, you’ve probably already seen it) caps a nearly three-year journey to the stage by New York’s Kurotama Kikaku Company and its artistic director, Jun Kim. A native of Japan with Korean heritage, Kim is an actor, dancer, and director of the show, doing double duty in the opening scenes as Mutsuda-no-Sanzo, the target of the titular Tokijiro (played with noble gravitas by Yasu Suzuki).

If these names sound hoary, consider the source material: written by Shin Hasegawa in 1928, KT is a hallmark of Japanese popular theatre, based in turn upon on a 19th century Japanese Yakuza/lone gambler story cut almost from the same cloth as the Spaghetti Western. In its first-ever English translation by the venerable Keiko Tsuneda, KT is reborn for an American audience.

Kim’s vision for a 21st century KT is to inject Japanese pop culture animation and folk songs as well as the dance movements of Noh, Kabuki and contemporary dance to form a “J-pop Theatre.” This is achieved via Japanese-language scenes between Tokijiro and his rivals (English supertitles are helpfully flashed above center stage) and through his more tender moments with Sanzo’s widow, Okinu (Hiroko Yonekura), whom Tokijiro elopes with along with her young son Tarokichi (Asuka Morinaga).

For the rest of the article, click here.

"With New York going bananas in between numbers and the room itself mimicking the Sapporo show with timed strobe and lighting effects—the theater’s management really went the extra mile—it truly felt like being at a concert." (Courtesy of Live Viewing Japan)

By JQ magazine editor Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) for Examiner.com. Visit his page here for related stories.

On Nov. 10 a one-time theatrical screening was held for a new concert film from virtual pop phenom Hatsune Miku. Entitled Hatsune Miku Live Party 2011 39′s Live in Sapporo, the film—captured in August at the 2,000 capacity Zepp Sapporo—is Miku’s latest appearance in America following a Toyota ad campaign and live gigs at L.A.’s Nokia Theatre and the San Diego Comic-Con earlier this year. (In fact, this reporter was interviewed for Japanese TV about that; click here for the news clip.)

Hatsune Miku, whose name means “first sound of the future,” is a Vocaloid (meaning machine-made vocals) digital female avatar and the most popular of Crypton Future Media characters that employ Yamaha technology to create synthesized vocal tracks, similar to Auto-Tune. In Japan, Miku is massively successful and has appeared in numerous popular video games and music videos, and her Sailor Moon-meets-Avril Lavigne image (she is a teen idol, after all) is equally fanboy and fangirl friendly.

Presented by Live Viewing Japan and simulcast in nine U.S. cities, this screening was shown to a capacity Times Square crowd. From the moment Miku’s name flashed up on the dark screen five seconds in, the audience was hooked. Wild applause, shrieks and excitement from the mostly American teens and twentysomethings in the crowd took the older folks by surprise. “This is like Paul McCartney to us,” remarked one lady several seats away. (She and her companion left about an hour in.)

For those unfamiliar with J-pop, the genre’s credo is style over substance (Katy Perry and Lady Gaga are our closest counterparts), but just like with our pop tarts, a catchy hook is a catchy hook. With a black, completely bare stage flanked by a five-piece band (yes, the music seems to be performed live), the only thing besides Miku noticeable throughout are the hundreds of lime green glow sticks pumped energetically by the fans throughout. Again, this was mirrored by the Times Square audience as one enterprising otaku passed out five blue ones (not to be outdone, he carried a massive Darth Maul-ish staff that lit up a chunk of the theater.)

For the rest of the article, click here.

"In the end, Sono really does ask us about our humanity, and what life is about. Sure, he takes the bloody, abusive, rape-filled path, but he does touch on some solid stuff. It's a lot of big questions wrapped in a gory, misogynistic, boob-exposing gift box." (Courtesy Salient Media)

By Rick Ambrosio (Ibaraki-ken, 2006-08) for JQmagazine. Rick manages the JET Alumni Association of New York (JETAANY)’s Twitter page and is the creator of the JETwit column Tadaima!

I was hungry, real hungry after work and was about 20 minutes early to the New York Museum of Art and Design near Columbus Circle to see the movie Cold Fish「冷たい熱帯魚」, so I walked a block to Good Burger and grabbed an overpriced hamburger.  As I arrived back to the museum, I sat next to Shree (name changed to protect the innocent) who was midway through a burrito. With minutes left before the movie started, we headed into the museum and down some wooden steps to the theater. Walking in I was pretty surprised; we were only accompanied by seven or eight other patrons. Little did I know that it was a blessing in disguise…fewer people to feel awkward around after the movie.

Oh yes, the movie.  How do I write about Cold Fish? It’s a little difficult. I suppose I can do it like this:

Cold Fish is a film directed by the controversial Sion Sono (whose month-long, eight-film retrospective wraps this week at MAD) and stars Denden and Mitsuru Fukikoshi. The film is based on real murders that took place in Fukushima. The story begins well enough: A timid man named Nobuyuki (Mitsuru Fukikoshi) with a rebellious daughter (Hiraki Kajiwara) and a hot trophy wife (gravure idol Megumi Kagurazaka) is feeling disconnected and regretful. They own a tropical fish shop. Through an awkward circumstance they meet Mr. Murata (Denden) and his attractive wife (Asuka Kurosawa), both of whom also own a tropical fish shop.

From there, shit just gets weird.  That’s the only way I can explain it, folks. And it wasn’t just because the film cut out four times while we watched it. (Apparently, there were Blu-ray issues…through most of the movie. The museum might want to buy a new player before they hold another festival.) Anyway, Mr. Murata decides to bring Nobuyuki on as a partner, but not before hiring his daughter at his shop and sleeping with his wife (who apparently enjoys rough treatment, to put it mildly).

As Nobuyuki is introduced as the new partner, the old partner finds himself exiting the business via a poisonous death. This is where things kick into the next gear, and Murata forces Nobuyuki to assist with the disposal of the body. The whole body disposal process is presented with great detail. I’m serious about this part—after watching this movie, I am fairly confident that anyone could make a dead body disappear.

The plot then dives deeper and deeper into the dark comedy that is Murata’s utter disregard for human life and the director’s utter disregard for your stomach. By the way, did I mention that this film is very graphically violent?  If you aren’t into that kind of thing, find another show; this movie revels in its ability to test what you can deal with gore-wise. If you enjoy severed heads and genitalia being tossed around a bathroom, you’ve found your dream movie.

Towards the end, Nobuyuki is faced with the truth which Murata is happy to provide—Nobuyuki is terrible at managing his family, he is just a weak, sad man floating around without purpose and without solving anything.  How Nobuyuki decides to remedy this is where the movie gets controversial (If it wasn’t already).

At this point I should note that Shree told me that had I not been writing a review for this movie, she would have just walked out with her half finished burrito. I couldn’t blame her. For the film’s final 20 minutes, you need to really suspend a lot of things; your belief in what was happening as well as any moral or ethical convictions you may hold. Luckily, I can easily cast these things aside and found the ending to be quite cathartic in a very angry Japanese way if I am to describe it. If you are, however, hampered by such things as morality and common decency, then the last reel is very hard to watch, and may make you question humanity. (You will not question the father’s ability to multitask, though.)

In the end, Sono really does ask us about our humanity, and what life is about. Sure, he takes the bloody, abusive, rape-filled path, but he does touch on some solid stuff.  What does a man amount to?  How much is too much?  What kind of control do you have over yourself, your world?  It’s a lot of big questions wrapped in a gory, misogynistic, boob-exposing gift box.  (BTW, thank you, Megumi Kagurazaka, for allowing me to stay invested in this movie, of only for your ability to stand straight up with your shoulders back.)

As I walked out of the theater, an attendant handed me a coupon for a free movie due to the technical difficulties the movie suffered during its presentation. I felt I deserved the coupon for having all shreds of decency I had left flushed out by the end of the movie. Shree demanded that I note this movie ranked in her “Bottom 3″ movies of all time. Obviously she hasn’t seen Battle Royale II, Tokyo Gore Police and a student film I made back in 2005…or at least she hasn’t seen all three of them.

I came away feeling sort of guilty that I liked it. I suppose that can’t be helped, since I also got a real kick out of American Psycho, but still… some of the scenes and dialogue in the movie, which were supposed to be seen as comedy, really can’t be defined as comedy to most people.

In summary: Don’t eat before the movie. Leave your moral baggage at the door. Come for Denden and Kagurazaka, stay to see Mitsuru Fukikoshi go off the deep end.  Don’t make eye contact with anyone for about 20 minutes after the movie. Enjoy.

For more on Sion Sono, including the upcoming screening of his film Love Exposure at MAD on Nov. 11, click here.

Recently I wrote a review of THE LAST DAYBREAK, the latest EP by exist†trace, for Purple SKY. The all-female J-rock band made their major label debut this past June and are now gearing up for a U.S. tour. They will play in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, as well as Tekkoshocon in Pittsburg, in March.

THE LAST DAYBREAK opens with a primal call from Jyou, but instead of singing in her trademark growling alto, she keeps her voice light and clear in “Daybreak ~Jyusan gatsu no shikisai.” Unexpected moves like these are the highlight of exist†trace’s new album.

Read the rest of the review here.

(Courtesy Chimera R. Productions)

By David A. in Virginia, special to JQ magazine.

Japanese mega-band DREAMS COME TRUE (ドリームズ・カム・トゥルー a.k.a. ドリカム) made a very rare U.S. appearance at the Highline Ballroom in New York City on October 9, the first of two shows that sold out within days of their announcement in July. Many thanks to fanpage DCT Joy for notifying its members of this wonderful event. For those of us not in New York, Los Angeles, or Seattle, we otherwise might not have known about it.

At dusk, around 6:30, the line already was down the block for admission to the inconspicuous Highline Ballroom in Chelsea. On this unseasonably warm October Sunday evening, the anticipation was palpable, the “DCT Joy” bringing alive the night. One walks upstairs to the ballroom, spare and easy to navigate. The management asks those seated on the floor of the “pit” to stand so that the crowd can fill the room.

First of all, a big shout-out to Justin Tedaldi (Kobe-Shi CIR, 2001-02) at JQ magazine. This reviewer cannot thank you enough. Also, thanks to Reiko from the DCT organization for her kind words.

Prior to the show, the house PA played a recording of some of DCT’s most well-known melodies, such as “Ano Natsu no Hanabi” and “Ureshii! Tanoshii! Daisuki!”, performed on soft bells.

Promptly at 8:00, introductions were made first by a woman in Japanese, to great enthusiasm from the audience; then a man said, “New York City! Are you ready for DREAMS COME TRUE?!” “A theme of the WONDERLAND” played as the fifteen-piece band-and-dance ensemble walked on stage, followed by Masato Nakamura (中村 正人). Although the Highline Ballroom has a standing capacity of 700, with a few dozen dinner tables on the balcony, the roar from the crowd was as if they were in an arena. With the theme concluded, Miwa Yoshida (吉田 美和) arrived, with her hair tied back and wearing a loose-fitting, light pink outfit; and, with her familiar exclamation “DREAMS COME TRUE in WONDERLAND….!!!”, the band launched into a heavy version of “Nando Demo,” as the crowd danced, waved, and cheered, encouraged by Miwa in all of her boundless energy.

If you’ve watched live videos on YouTube from DCT’s career, you have seen their many huge and elaborate custom-designed stages and their intricate choreography, and you have seen how all performers, especially Miwa, have complete command and control of the settings, never intimated or overwhelmed. Even without the elaborate production, and crowded as they were on the small stage, the performance was not lacking with any of the energy or musical qualities; we saw that the big productions augment the performance, but are not the heart and soul of the show. It is the people, the artists, from the duo of Miwa and Masa to every supporting band member, who contribute the sound and the movement that make DCT one of the most exciting live acts ever.

Miwa would lead the audience in familiar waves, gestures, and sing-alongs, especially during the ever-popular live hits “Kessen Wa Kinyoubi” and “Ureshii! Tanoshii! Daisuki!”, although the show clearly was choreographed in most numbers. As other reviewers online have commented, DCT and their band looked to be having so much fun onstage!

Miwa Yoshida, center, and Masato Nakamura, right, of DREAMS COME TRUE at New York's Highline Ballroom Oct. 9, 2011. (Mark Higashino)

After three numbers, Miwa took time for extended greetings to the audience (“New York Wonder Babies”), mostly in Japanese. As translated for this reviewer (thank you, Justin), Miwa said that they were not sure how the audience would react; the positive enthusiasm for them truly was “Wonderland,” and she wanted to take everyone’s feelings to Japan with her. Masa, wearing a multi-colored outfit, spoke mostly in English, charming the audience with his good-natured self-deprecating humor; he mentioned also that he had lost his voice, and that his apartment in New York was being renovated.

As other reviewers have noted, the show contains a mix of older and newer material, and well- and lesser-known songs, often with creative liberties taken in the arrangements, some unusually “heavy” or “hard.” One never knew what to expect next—it was “unpredictable” in the best way.

MC Marcellus Nealy deftly shifted between supporting and lead roles; he had a good rapport with Miwa and the other performers. The saxophonist who plays the great solo in the YouTube video “DREAMS COME TRUE WONDERLAND 2007″ added many nice, smooth, emotional, and flawless fills and solos to several of the numbers, as well as leading the five-piece DCT Horns in tight arrangements. The guitarist, Juon, on hire from another Japanese group called Fuzzy Control, fit in seamlessly, and at one point delivered a fiery solo. The male vocalist, Nobuyoshi Nakazawa, who has been with the group since at least 2007, was with DCT at this show, also playing acoustic and electric guitars. The woman drummer, Satoko from Fuzzy Control, who appears in videos from the 20th Anniversary Tour two years ago, was with them at this show; petite and with a perpetual cheerful smile, one might not have expected her to “kick it out” with such power and intensity. She and Masa were an ideal pair for an extremely tight and heavy rhythm section.

Masa’s keen sense of harmonic arrangement and tasteful bass lines that critically define the character of the songs always have been part of the indispensable mix of personalities, visions, and talents that have distinguished DREAMS COME TRUE. At these live volumes, the importance of Masa’s bass guitar truly stood out as being on an equal footing with Miwa’s melodies, lyrics, and vocal deliveries. DREAMS COME TRUE is a genuine duo of necessary and complementary parts, and Masa’s smooth handling and control of the six-string puts him in the leading ranks of rock bass guitarists.

Reviews of the earlier shows noted some sound problems. At the Highline Ballroom, all voices and instruments (both acoustic and electric/electronic) were mixed and balanced perfectly, for that “big sound” that has defined DCT live and on record. That they could vary the arrangements and instrumentation and still have this level of excellence developed in a relatively short time demonstrates once again how seriously they take every detail of their craft.

Miwa, always smiling, generously shared credit and attention with the supporting band. She was full of aerobic energy all night, frequently mirroring the dancers’ movements (as in “Kessen Wa Kinyoubi”), and interacting with the dancers spontaneously and rehearsed. Miwa’s voice was flawless in pitch, dynamics, and emotional expressiveness, and never wavered even when she was striving for the maximum. She is a “natural” who has spent decades perfecting her talents; in this unedited, unenhanced, undiluted intimate setting, whatever ingredients comprise “star quality” were shining with abundance; and she was so radiantly beautiful, she confirmed what not enough people in the U.S. know: that Miwa Yoshida belongs among the greatest popular music vocalists.

As the show progressed with increasingly heavy arrangements, suddenly the brass and woodwinds began playing the DCT Horns’ part from the end of “Kessen Wa Kinyoubi”—Marcellus reminded us, “Because it’s Sunday night!” and the crowd’s enthusiasm was unstoppable. It captured all the spectacle of the best live DCT shows, there in a small ballroom.

Most astonishing was the revision of this timeless classic: In the middle of the song, Miwa began singing with an entirely, completely different melody, as the band accompanied with a completely different rhythmic and harmonic instrumental arrangement; then, suddenly, they reverted to the original composition. On cue, most of the audience joined in the “vocal endurance” line near the conclusion (“Ni-na-na ni-na-na….nowwwww!”), as the song ended in a great climax of light, sound, and motion. Where to go from there?! All that was left was “Ureshii! Tanoshii! Daisuki!”—hands waving, heads bopping, the crowd was on fire with full delight as Miwa delivered her most heartfelt performance of the song that, after 20 years, still is the crown jewel of the DREAMS COME TRUE oeuvre. Joining hands and taking their bows, Miwa, Masa, and their band slowly left the stage that provided a treasured night of popular music at its best. (But not before thrilling the audience one last time with a two-song encore.)

Now that the ’90s are becoming part of the “classic rock” format, it is time to note that most people outside of East Asia do not know that DREAMS COME TRUE was the most popular rock ensemble of the 1990s. In fact, within popular music of the 1990s, their exact contemporary Garth Brooks is their only real rival in terms of commercial success. What if events such as this “WONDERLAND 2011” tour of the United States could initiate a belated but long-overdue and deserved appreciation of DREAMS COME TRUE in the U.S.?

Most people who have seen DCT in Japan have seen them in large arenas or sports stadiums, which means necessarily that it is a “distant” experience for most in attendance. On the floor at the Highline Ballroom, the viewers furthest away were about 50 feet from the stage. Although we in the U.S. have fewer opportunities to see DCT, they are extremely rare opportunities to see one of the all-time greats “up close” and with an unforgettable immediacy.

David Lee Roth once said, “You should never leave the audience wanting more; the audience should leave the arena completely drained, saying, ‘Wow—that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!’” After only two hours, before we knew it, the DCT show was over. We could have continued watching all night; and, yet…”Wow—that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!” (You are right, Justin—our dreams came true.)

Thank you, DREAMS COME TRUE. The USA loves you. Come back soon!

Visit Dorikamu online at www.dreamscometrue.com.

By Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) and Vlad Baranenko (Saitama-ken, 2000-02) for JQ magazine.

Presented by The Playwrights Realm, the drama Crane Story stars Angela Lin (a veteran of JET alum Randall David Cook’s Sake with the Haiku Geisha) as Cassis, a young Japanese American on an odyssey to rescue her brother’s soul from the land of the dead.

Written by Jen Silverman and directed by Katherine Kovner, Crane Story runs through Oct. 1 at the Cherry Lane Theatre in New York’s Greenwich Village. Here’s what JQ‘s critics had to say at a Midtown diner after a recent performance.

Justin Tedaldi: What were your thoughts about the production?

Vlad Baranenko: Given the limited resources that they have being Off-Broadway, they did a very good job with the imagery and the special effects.

JT: I really liked the way the creative team put everything together with the scenery and the costumes, especially the sound effects. There’s a raised wooden stage where most of the action happens, and at the very beginning they describe rain, but you see the rest of the cast drumming their fingers on the stage, which creates the illusion of falling rain. Very creative ways of getting around the limitations that come with being an Off-Broadway production.

VB: I agree on that. The cast obviously remembered their lines really well. It didn’t seem forced, actually; very natural. In that regard, I give them high marks.

JT: I’m reading here that the actor who plays Ishida, Louis Ozawa Changchien, appeared with Adrien Brody, Topher Grace and Laurence Fishburne in the movie Predators.

VB: He looks like someone who’s got some pretty good experience under his belt. He comes off as very authentic in the way he acts, and that’s one of the first things that I noticed.

JT: He’s a much more seasoned actor here, definitely. He seems a bit older than the rest of the cast, bit I want to give a shout-out to Angela Lin, who plays Cassis. She has an Emma Stone kind of quality, where she plays in between a teenager and a mature woman, so she walks this line between cynicism and a tender vulnerability to the things that happen. She expresses a lot with her eyes and face, and you can really see that from the audience.

VB: The American character, Barret O’Brien, who plays a vagabond…

JT: He’s a musician, man.

VB: (Laughs) I’m sorry, I thought that was the exact same thing.

JT: One thing about this plot is that the playwright wants to peel away the layers like an onion, so the audience is trying to piece together the plot as it happens. I don’t know if that’s always best for the drama, because at the end of the first act we were introduced to two new characters, including the musician, whose intent was purposely unclear, so you feel more frustrated than engaged by the story itself. Somehow, Lin’s character enters the spirit world and is able to bring the younger self of someone back to life…

VB: What do you suppose is the purpose?

JT: We don’t know any of this. And they somehow seem to have the ability to go back in time, too, but they don’t explain this. As for the crane, the actress, Christine Toy Johnson, is on stage for virtually the entire play, observing the characters, but that never pays off.

VB: Yes, definitely, I couldn’t agree more. I was expecting for the connection to be more evident towards the end, but the second act closed without that realization.

JT: There is a strong affinity for the Japanese culture in the dialogue. I think Silverman knows enough about it, like how Japanese people are indecisive and yes means no and all those things. That’s very well observed, because the lead character is grappling with her own “half” identity at the same time. And that’s a tough thing to do when you’re juggling the supernatural angle that you have here with a more realistic drama with family issues and cross cultural adjustments, with the characters trying to break through and get an idea of not only who their identities are, but also just where this thing is going story-wise.

VB: The over-complication of the story did take away from its cohesiveness. I think the winner, if you want to make it a contest, is the production. I thought the sound and pre-recorded effects were spot-on—everything was in tune and on cue, really impressive. As for the actors themselves, the delivery of lines was very fluid, and it was very believable.

JT: I thought the performances in the second act were even stronger. They really found a rhythm.

VB: That’s what really stuck with me more than anything, how natural everything seemed.

JT: You really believe the characters. One of the actors played a triple role for the same person, including an ethereal, transvestite version of himself.

VB: I didn’t fully get that.

JT: Me either, but I commend the fact that he was able to wear all these different hats. There’s no way to explain it.

VB: I’m very curious what they were trying to do with that, but he did a pretty good job.

JT: The costumes were great, and the bunraku parts with the ghost was also incredibly well done.

VB: The puppets themselves looked very good, too. The spirit “keeper” Skell, played by Susan Hyon, seemed very Japanese, too, with three or four people operating that thing at some point, and they were able to act in a cohesive manner and the parts where they spoke at the same time was spot-on, too. It’s very impressive. It’s a lot of lines to remember, right?

JT: It is. It’s not a very big cast, and a lot of the main players are almost always onstage.

VB: The visual and the auditory aspects of the play were spot-on. The part with the rain where they put a little vent in the stage, that was very, very well done.

JT: The dialogue is poetic at times, too, especially coming from the crane herself. Some of the lines felt a little forced, like when she said things like “a dry bone whistling in the wind” and “the mountains surround the fog.”

VB: I think her lines were probably my least favorite, and although I understand that her role was more of a narrator, I felt that they left a bit of a void.

JT: A little of that goes a long way.

VB: The role of her character, I think, didn’t really stand out and achieve the intended effect.

JT: They could have just had her in the beginning, in the prologue…

VB:  She would make an occasional appearance, but that’s it. And then there’s that scene where it seems like she goes to hell to make a deal with the record keeper…

JT: I thought that would explain some things, but it raised more questions than it answered.

VB: Exactly, there seems to be very little correlation. It almost felt like there was really no reason to call the play Crane Story, since the main plot didn’t follow the theme of the original folktale.

JT: I think if there’s one big theme here, it’s love and loss. One of the ties is romantic, and then there’s one that’s familial. And then you have another romantic tie that develops later between two of the characters, but it’s taken away almost as quickly as it began. Maybe that’s what they’re trying to express here, that love is temporary; I guess there’s a lot of ways you can read into that. But I do like that they had a romance kindled in the second act.  It would have been nice if they explored that more instead of falling back on the supernatural angle, which had already run its course by then.

VB: I think they tried to explain too much too quickly.

JT: In the end, for someone who’s lived in Japan and has an interest in Japanese culture, theater and performing arts, it’s definitely worth seeing because you get a lot of good visuals—you get bunraku, kabuki style with the shishi-mai, you get all that stuff in there that you wouldn’t easily be able to find here, even in New York. So that part is good. But the story, I think a lot of people will feel like they’ve maybe seen this before or that it isn’t strong enough on its own.

VB: And the perception of Japan through the eyes of the foreigner that comes up quite a bit in the story, that’s somebody who’s lived in Japan could identify with, as well.

JT: Even though the plot drifts in and out, it still has enough presence within the entire play to give it is own identity and character.

VB: I think the play was made for people who have experienced Japan, because of the numerous references to Roppongi and Shinjuku and street musicians; if somebody hadn’t been there, it really wouldn’t have resonated with them. So I think Silverman did a really good job.

JT: The musician guy even says, “Why are all Asian women crazy?”, to which some gentleman in the audience—it wasn’t us—laughed out very loud when he heard that, so I’m sure that was some kind of mutual experience being shared.

VB: Exactly.

JT: I would be interested in seeing future works from the playwright.

VB: I know I said it before, but the technical crew deserves quite a bit of praise.

JT: The fact that Silverman was able to take a very simple tale and weave it into a two-hour show that holds your interest is something; it’s just that the execution is not as strong as the visuals and the technical excellence on display.

VB: So, a story with unanswered questions; got a boost from very strong acting; and well-executed technical aspects.

JT: Great visuals integrated seamlessly. Let’s look forward to something similar by the same names in the future, whether it’s Off-Broadway or beyond. Maybe they can revive Shogun: The Musical. Anything else to add?

VB: Yes. I’m looking forward to my cheeseburger.

Crane Story plays at New York’s Cherry Lane Theatre through Oct. 1. For more information, visit http://playwrightsrealm.org.

James Kennedy (Nara-ken, 2004-06)

In the article, James apparently also had the chance to correct some bad Japanese in his book. (Who says the JET program doesn’t teach marketable skills?)

“Errors crop up. Speculating on the name of Mario’s evil twin, Wario, Mr. Ryan claims that “in Japanese, wariu means bad.” Actually, the Japanese is warui.”

The book review was in Friday’s print WSJ, and here it is online: http://on.wsj.com/paNu5f

"The stories in The Beautiful One Has Come have a universal appeal but will strike a familiar note in particular with those who have spent considerable time outside their comfort zones." (Wyatt-MacKenzie Publishing)

By Sharona Moskowitz (Fukuoka-ken, 2000-01) for JQ magazine. Sharona works at a literary agency in New York City. She is interested in fresh, new voices in fiction and creative nonfiction.

I began reading Suzanne Kamata (Tokushima-ken, 1988-1990)’s new collection of short stories with no idea what to expect and a sense of up-for-anything enthusiasm. Luckily, that feeling stayed with me throughout the collection and renewed itself automatically as I approached each new story.

There’s an enjoyably uncomfortable tension contained within the pages of The Beautiful One Has Come and it’s precisely that tension, paired with Kamata’s ability to glide between narrative points of view, that makes this collection so strong. The characters who inhabit the pages feel so true I could practically hear their pulses.

The physical settings of the stories vary from Cuba to Egypt to France to Japan among other countries, but the characters seem to inhabit spaces all their own: their minds are the true sites of conflict. The stories deal mostly with women in various states of transition; feeling like outsiders while negotiating their own identities, striving for something just out of reach, or trying to come to terms with loss. There is the foreign housewife who longs for the comforts of her native land, the elderly artist whose husband wrongfully gets the credit for the paintings she has created and the Japanese girl who is obsessed with studying abroad in Egypt.

Though these profiles might sound familiar, each story is buoyed by unique and unexpected details which keep the characters from sinking into stereotypes.

As with any collection of short stories, some will inevitably stand out more than others for different readers. For me, the last story “Between” lingered longest in my mind, probably because it reminded me of people I have known personally. Kai is a bicultural child being raised in Japan with an American mother and a Japanese father. In a culture that valorizes group acceptance above all else, his mother fears that he will never completely fit in with his peers. She worries about picking him up from school afraid that one sight of his gaijin mother would cause endless razzing by his classmates.

On a visit to America, Kai is playing with his cousin when his mother is shocked to learn that he doesn’t know who George Washington is. As though a barometer of Americanness, she begins to wonder whether she is properly educating him.

And yet meanwhile, Kai experiences little if any adversity. He is pleasantly unselfconscious about his bicultural status. To him, being “half” is still more or less a neutral experience. It’s the adults around him on the other hand who seem to be projecting their concerns and anxieties, afraid that he will always remain “between” in a sort of cultural limbo, on the cusp of both worlds without fully belonging to either. Ultimately his mother realizes that she must “watch him go, out into the world.”

Like the other stories in the collection, “Between” explores issues of self-sacrifice and alienation, though the more poignant question raised seems to be one of identity. Personal and cultural identity in Kamata’s stories is a slippery concept, rarely inert, always morphing and shape shifting.

The stories in The Beautiful One Has Come have a universal appeal but will strike a familiar note in particular with those who have spent considerable time outside their comfort zones. As many who have lived overseas can attest, it’s often the little things that stand out. The differences and contradictions of daily life that natives may not care about or even notice are usually most salient to expats. What’s fascinating about the book is how the stories bravely tackle the odd paradox of cultural displacement: feeling like you don’t fit in anywhere makes you realize you can actually fit in everywhere.

Visit Suzanne’s homepage at www.suzannekamata.com.

Go Morita in a scene from 'The Temple of the Golden Pavilion' at New York's Lincoln Center Festival. (Stephanie Berger)

By Lyle Sylvander (Yokohama-shi, 2001-02) for JQ magazine. Lyle is entering a master’s program at the School of International and Public Affairs at Columbia University (MIA 2013) and has been writing for the JET Alumni Association since 2004. He is also the goalkeeper for FC Japan, a NYC-based soccer team.

In 1950, a young Buddhist monk committed a notorious act of arson and destroyed the ancient Kinkakuji Temple in Kyoto, Japan. Yukio Mishima, Japan’s preeminent novelist at the time, fictionalized the events in Kinkakuji, published in 1956 and translated into English as The Temple of the Golden Pavilion in 1959. While the actual arsonist was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, Mishima presented an elaborately detailed psychological study of a disturbed man, incorporating elements of Buddhist and ancient Greek philosophical reflections on the impermanence of beauty and the conflicts between idealism and reality. The novel helped cement Mishima’s worldwide literary reputation and inspired numerous adaptations, including an opera, a modern dance ballet and two film versions.

Now, the director Amon Miyamoto, previously represented in New York by his production of Stephen Sondheim’s Pacific Overtures, has adapted the story into a full-fledged theatrical production. Having premiered last year at Miyamoto’s Kanagawa Arts Theatre (KAAT) in Yokohama, the production was presented intact by the annual Lincoln Center Festival in New York from July 21-24 with its original cast, led by J-pop star Go Morita of the boy band V6.

In presenting his version of the story, Miyamoto (who co-wrote the script with Chihiro Ito) relies on an arsenal of visual conventions, from multimedia projections to Western theatrical blocking to Japanese austerity. Most of the play is presented on a wooden stage suggestive of an old classroom, a fitting visual component of the temple grounds’ claustrophobic enclave. Mizoguchi, the monk’s name in Mishima’s version, is played by Morita as an awkward stutterer who creates a vibrant interior world at odds with his disappointing reality.

Miyamoto is most successful in realizing the psychological dynamism so evident in the novel by representing his interior machinations theatrically—the small stage functions dually as Mizoguchi’s mind, a mental arena where his neuroses and complexes assume a tangible form and battle each other. Sexual repression, aesthetic rapture, a dangerous idealism of history and Japanese nationalism, and the tragic struggle between the Dionysian and Apollonian aesthetic propel Mizoguchi’s mind toward its tragic end. Along the way, he is manipulated by his clubfooted friend Kashiwagi, who uses his malady as way to get sympathy from women.

The play’s visuals were effective in two ways. They told the literal aspects of the story well, an example being the screen projections when Mizoguchi was traveling by train and the scene in Gion. But they also demonstrated what was going on in his mind—the visual representation of the electronic static going on his mind—the anxiety, tension and confusion that drove him to desperate measures. This all built up to the climax, where the audience inside the Rose Theater is engulfed in the golden red light, itself both literal (the burning of the golden temple) and the image of transient perfect beauty that he is so desperate to find.

This impressive staging of The Temple of the Golden Pavilion is a much more demanding work than causal theatergoers may be used to, but fans of Mishima and his novel will find much to savor.

For more on The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, click here.

Since there have been a couple posts here about JAPAN CUTS film festival in New York, I thought I would write about a Japanese movie I saw at the Asian Film Festival of Dallas last week.  The festival was in its 10th year and ran from July 14-21.  Among the Japanese films screened was the 2010 live-action adaptation of the popular shoujo manga series, Kimi ni Todoke (in English, From Me to You).

Haruma Miura as Shota Kazehaya and Mikako Tabe as Sawako Kuronuma

Filled with a young actors, the movie seemed like a typical high school romance in which shy loner Sawako Kuronuma, who is made fun of for her resemblance to Sadako of The Ring, catches the eye of class heartthrob Shota Kazehaya.  However, it is more a story about Sawako coming out of her shell and forging tight bonds with the people who reach out to her.  The muted colors and leisurely pace make the film light and gentle, yet there are moments that remind us that adolescence years can contain heartache.  More importantly, Kimi ni Todoke reminds us that a little kindness can go a long way.

For a complete review of the film, click here.

"Brimming with potent imagery, the novel is suffused with a generous dose of personal observation and philosophical musing, much of which sounds strikingly contemporary." (Random House)

By Sharona Moskowitz (Fukuoka-ken, 2000-01) for JQ magazine. Sharona works at a literary agency in New York City. She is interested in fresh, new voices in fiction and creative nonfiction.

A former Japanese colleague of mine once described his homeland to me as an “island of repression.” He spoke with mixed emotion of the burdensome pressure Japanese feel to fulfill their cultural and societal duties and how his lifelong dream was to escape for a year and live abroad. He lamented his kinsmen’s gradual loss of “Japaneseness,” fearing that despite the superficial Westernization, or perhaps because of it, Japan was barely keeping up with the rest of the world. Interested to hear more I pressed him to elaborate. He shifted his eyes downward, paused a moment, and took a long deep breath before finally responding, “Maybe…it’s complicated.”

Complicated indeed. David Mitchell’s historical novel, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet which takes place at the turn of the 19th century, paints a vivid portrait of a bygone Japan with its rugged landscape, samurai lords and characters who commute by horse and palanquin.  Medicine is administered in the form of crude herbal concoctions and the natural world is generally viewed through a lens of superstition. Nevertheless, those who know Japan well will recognize a familiar current running throughout the narrative. To read the book is to get a feel for the seeds of what would eventually flower into the complexity of modern day Japan as we know it.

The story is set near Nagasaki on the island of Dejima where the eponymous hero lives and works for a Dutch trading company. Dejima has been designated a Dutch trading post and its foreign denizens are strictly forbidden from entering the mainland, their interactions with the Japanese governed by rigid rules and careful monitoring. Jacob’s original plan was to come to Japan for five years, accrue a nice fortune and return to Holland to marry his fianceé Anna. His plan, however, is thrown off kilter by unforeseen complications including dubious business practices, a bleak future and most profoundly, his burgeoning secret love for Orito Aibagawa, a Japanese midwife on the island. Orito is highly educated and hardy, unlike the other women we encounter in the novel. Something of a feministic anachronism, she is more concerned with scholarly pursuits than domestic life. With her ironclad will and opinions expressed without equivocation, one imagines that even today she would stand out in Japanese society. (And due to her strong character she still wouldn’t care.)

Orito’s physical appearance is marred by a burn scar on her left cheek, putting her at a considerable disadvantage in finding a suitable Japanese marriage partner. To Jacob, though, her beauty is unique; he is unfazed by her scar and perhaps even more intrigued with her because of it. Unfortunately, he knows that as a foreigner she is entirely off limits to him. Captivated by her exoticness, he ponders, “to what God would a Japanese midwife pray?”

The plot develops at a somewhat sluggish pace in the first part of the novel, though the narrative is fueled by Mitchell’s fluid prose and stunning use of language. Thoroughly researched and elegantly rendered, Mitchell’s words are often sparse and powerfully simple as if his writing itself is paying implicit homage to a Japanese aesthetic sensibility. Even during the slowest of scenes, the narrative is so delectably poetic that I couldn’t help but surrender to the text and continue. And that’s a good thing: in the space of a few short chapters the plot’s momentum accelerates beyond expectation as the novel morphs into something of an adventure story.

By an unfortunate turn of events, we see Orito taken against her will to a mountaintop shrine in Shiranui and forced into a life of servitude. The shrine, effectually a prison, is populated with former prostitutes and women who are otherwise considered freaks or undesirables. The monks in charge cling to the self-righteous delusion that they are “rescuing” the women and giving them a better life, sparing them from a cruel fate of poverty and dejection. Little by little, the perverse secret creeds of the shrine are revealed with practices so horrific the reader wouldn’t have imagined them in the most disturbing of nightmares. Uzaemon, a Japanese translator on Dejima who is also obsessively in love with Orito, devises a risky plan to rescue her from the oppressive grip of the sinister shrine. And so the tension builds.

Brimming with potent imagery, the story’s setting is one where a “clock’s pendulum scrapes at time like a sexton’s shovel,” “air swims with insects, born of damp earth and autumn sun” and the “human mind [is] a loom that weaves disparate threads of belief, memory and narrative into an entity whose common name is Self.” The novel is suffused with a generous dose of personal observation and philosophical musing, much of which sounds strikingly contemporary. In a conversation between Jacob and a Japanese cohort, the latter opines that although Jacob may feel like a prisoner confined to the island of Dejima, “…all Japanese [are] prisoners all life.” He reveals his deep longing to go abroad, his “precious wish is one year in Batavia, to speak Dutch…to eat Dutch, to drink Dutch, to sleep Dutch. One year, just one year…” Reading those words, I could practically hear my former colleague’s voice.

During another interaction between Jacob and a group of Japanese workers, one excitedly screams out,”‘Gaijin-sama!’…with a grin wider than his face. He holds up a measuring rule and offers a service that makes his colleagues howl with laughter.” Substitute Jacob for a JET participant, the workers for a group of students, and it’s not hard to envision a mental snapshot of the modern Japan we know and love.

Perhaps what I found most intriguing about the novel is that it takes place at a specific moment in history when Japan was at a threshold, just beginning to get a taste of some of the Western ideas which the Japanese would eventually adapt and integrate into their own social and scientific thought. Suspicious of foreigners yet aware that doing business with them is a potentially lucrative endeavor, some might argue this dilemma is alive and well in modern day Japan, though perhaps to a lesser extent. The outside world is at once seductive and foreboding, repulsive yet beckoning with the promise of endless opportunity. In what seems to be a foreshadowing of the country’s long-term fate—a scholarly author in the book named Yoshida declares that “this widely held belief that Japan is an impregnable fortress is a pernicious delusion,” while another character affirms that Japan’s seas are “no impassable moat but…an ocean road without frontiers.”

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet is now in paperback. For more information, click here.

Meat Monster: "Oishisou! (de ha nai)"

Current Mie JET Patrick St. Michel shared the below about his recent “Meat Monster” review in Esquire Magazine, which JETwit believes is very much worth your time to read.

An Unexpected Burger Benefit of Life in Japan

Posted by Patrick St. Michel (Mie-ken, 2009-present).

Having now lived in Japan for nearly two years, I’ve discovered a host of benefits—from convenient public transportation to a copious amount of vending machines—that come with residing in this island nation.  Recently, however, I encountered a completely unexpected benefit—one that involved consuming—in a single sitting—the FDA-recommended caloric intake for a herd of plus-size elephants.

Prior to joining JET, I attended—and graduated from—Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism.  My pre-JET life also included working at three newspapers, an online music site, and an online magazine that I co-founded (http://www.northbynorthwestern.com).  One of the friends I made along the way now works at Esquire magazine.  Word had apparently spread stateside that Burger King Japan was launching a medically ill-advised burger aptly dubbed the “Meat Monster.”  Knowing that I live in Japan and generally don’t give much thought to my arteries’ continuing ability to function, my friend asked if I would write a review of the Meat Monster for Esquire.  Fortunately, I had inadvertently prepped for this unexpected assignment, having just reviewed McDonald’s “Mega Teriyaki” in my blog about life in Japan—http://www.japantrick.wordpress.com/.  (I’ve also previously reviewed McDonald’s line of Big America burgers)

Some 1,160 calories and 2,290 milligrams of sodium later, I filed my Esquire story—http://www.esquire.com/blogs/food-for-men/burger-king-meat-monster-042611

As a postscript, my plan is to pursue a post-JET writing career in Japan.  Toward that end, if anyone has suggestions—or knows of openings at traditional or online publications or public relations/marketing positions—I would love to hear from you!  Reach me at mailto:patrickstmichel@gmail.com.  If you’re still not sure about me, learn more at http://www.patrickstmichel.com, and if you’re interested in the Japanese music scene, follow my blog—http://www.makebelievemelodies.wordpress.com/.

On December 3 and December 5, JETAADC held its first ever JETAA DC Film Festival.  And they did it in style at the Freer Gallery of the Smithsonian Institute.  Here’s a write-up of the event courtesy of JETAADC.

In an attempt to increase awareness of the Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) Program and to showcase Japanese or Japan-related films to American audiences, the Japan Exchange and Teaching Alumni Association of Washington, DC (JETAADC) partnered with the Freer Gallery of the Smithsonian Institution to screen two films from December 3-5, Linda Linda Linda and The Harimaya Bridge.

On Friday, December 3, JETAADC showed Linda Linda Linda, a quirky comedy about a band of four girls and their rehearsals leading up to their talent show performance during school festival. Prior to the film, JETAADC Vice President Nick Harling provided some opening remarks, discussing the JET Program, JETAADC, and adding a bit of context to the film.  Approximately  130 people attended the show on December 3, and after the film, about 40 audience members congregated at a local bar to continue discussing the film and Japanese culture.

On Sunday, December 5, JETAADC and the Freer Gallery screened The Harimaya Bridge, written and directed by Aaron Woolfolk, a JET alum from Kochi-ken. The film follows an American man who must travel to rural Japan to claim some important items belonging to his late son, from whom he was estranged. While there, he learns several secrets his son left behind. Mr. Woolfolk attended the screening, which drew over 200 people from the greater DC metro area, including representatives from local media. After the film, Mr. Woolfolk responded to questions from the audience regarding his inspiration for the film, the process of making the film, and what it was like working in Japan, both as a teacher and a filmmaker. About 50% stayed for the Q & A.

Afterwards, Mr. Woolfolk said, “It was a special honor to have the film shown at the Smithsonian Institution, and I am especially grateful to JETAADC for playing a pivotal role in making that happen. Moreover, spending time with the DC alumni before and after the screening reminded me how very fortunate and proud I am to be a part of the JET community.”

JETAADC President Maurice Maloney added, “JETAADC was honored to have Aaron Woolfolk and The Harimaya Bridge as part of our film series. In two and a half hours at the Freer Gallery, the film, along with Aaron’s discussion, conveyed the JET experience to a broader audience than we could have reached in months.”

Maloney added, “In light of discussed budget cuts to the JET Programme and JET Alumni Associations across the globe, it is more important than ever for JET Alumni Associations to showcase the breadth of their alumni and the positive effects they have on their communities.”

Click “Read More” to see photos from the event, courtesy of JETAADC.

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JETAADC Board along with Director Aaron Woolfolk

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JETAADC President Mac Maloney shares a few words prior to the screening.

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JET alum film director Aaron Woolfolk responds to questions following a showing of "The Harimaya Bridge."

]]> http://jetwit.com/wordpress/2010/12/21/jetaa-dc-film-festival-how-was-it/feed/ 0 http://jetwit.com/wordpress/2010/11/28/james-kennedy-reviews-pluto-killer-book-for-wall-street-journal/ http://jetwit.com/wordpress/2010/11/28/james-kennedy-reviews-pluto-killer-book-for-wall-street-journal/#comments Mon, 29 Nov 2010 02:35:06 +0000 jetwit http://jetwit.com/wordpress/?p=15105 James Kennedy (Nara-ken, 2004-06), author of the acclaimed young adult novel The Order of Odd-Fish, has a great review in the Wall Street Journal of a sugoku omoshiroi book titled, How I Killed Pluto, And Why It Had It Coming by professor of astronomy Mike Brown.

Here’s the link:  http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704243904575630683559145518.html#articleTabs%3Darticle

“Tonoharu Part Two: Excellent graphic novel about an English teacher in Japan”:  http://www.boingboing.net/2010/11/10/tonoharu-part-two-ex.html

(Editor’s note:  I have a copy of Tonoharu:  Part 1, and every time I show it to a fellow JET alum and they start reading it, they end up reading the whole thing (which takes about 15 minutes).  It’s really terrific and very unique.)

Recently he interviewed two members of the cast of “The Last Airbender” movie during their promotional visit to Tokyo, asking them for their views on the “racebending” controversy surrounding their film. He also covered an insect show now running at a Tokyo museum, reviewed the manga “Otomen,” and weighed in on a couple of other movies now playing in Japan. Here are some excerpts:

“Last Airbender”

In the United States, some fans of the anime-style cartoon on which the movie is based have protested against the casting of Jackson Rathbone and Nicola Peltz, who are white, in roles the fans saw as Asian.

Asked to comment on that, Rathbone said: “I originally was a finalist for Prince Zuko [a Fire Nation role that went to Slumdog Millionaire star Dev Patel]. Almost a year later, I was brought back in for the character of Sokka…I think what they were really looking for was the qualities that people represent, not so much focusing on race…All these characters [in the cartoon] have so many different features, you can’t really say that they are one race…It’s a shame that people really focus on the race thing and they don’t understand that it’s a story for everyone.”

“And there are over 120 different types of people in the film,” Peltz added.

“In terms of a big-budget film, it’s the most ethnically diverse cast there’s ever been,” Rathbone agreed.

Read the rest of the interview here.

“Insects festival”

Open your window on a hot summer day and you may hear a sound that caught the ear of haiku poet Matsuo Basho in the 17th century: the voices of cicadas, seeping into the rocks. Of course, Japan today is a lot more urbanized than it was in Basho’s time, and cicadas are more likely to sing against a background of asphalt and cement. Yet year after year, the buzzing bugs never fail to show up, even in the heart of Tokyo.

Visitors to Insects Festival, an exhibition now running at the Edo-Tokyo Museum in Ryogoku, Tokyo, are reminded of such persistence right away with a display of six-legged critters that live in three different Tokyo zones: mountains, fields and downtown areas.

While city-dwellers often resent sharing space with the likes of cockroaches and ants, the emphasis of this show is on seasonal outdoor insects whose diverse shapes, bright colors and occasional songs actually enhance city life…

Read the rest of the article here, or visit the exhibition’s site here.

“Otomen”

Anyone writing a graduate thesis on the presentation of gender in Japanese pop culture will find abundant material in the manga series Otomen. Readers looking for laughs will also find what they seek in Otomen, but rather less abundantly.

The main characters are a trio of high school students, with the focus on Asuka (a boy who has a name more common for girls), who is in love with Ryo (a girl who has a name more common for boys). Their would-be romance is complicated by the constant presence of their friend Juta, who tries to play cupid, but is more often a third wheel.

Asuka is the captain of the school kendo team, and is admired by everyone as a “real man.” But he is secretly an “otomen,” a boy who is into girly things, such as cute stuffed animals and delicate pastries. He is at least as skilled at cooking and sewing as he is at sports, but he keeps that side of himself hidden. Ryo is Asuka’s mirror image in that she has been raised by her socially inept father to follow in his footsteps as a martial arts champion, but she strives to put up a feminine front at school. Juta has a secret, too, as he is actually a best-selling manga artist who is using the couple as a model for his stories…

Read the full review here.

Also playing…

You can read Tom’s review of “Inception” here, and his review of “Zombieland” here.