After Life
A charming,
humane, life-affirming movie about death
You have
just died.
A polite young caseworker has just informed you of this
fact. He is very sorry for your loss, but now there is
something he must ask you to do. In the next three days you
must decide on the one — the only — memory from
your life that you would like to take with you into
eternity. The one moment that will, for you, have made the
whole process of being born and enduring all of life's
troubles worthwhile.
Such is the premise of Hirokazu Kore-eda's "After Life," a
film that deals with the topic of death in a gentle,
compassionate and practical way.
Set in a drab, utilitarian office building — a
typical bureaucratic processing center — the
caseworkers of "After Life" consult with 22 newly dead
people of all ages and experiences. One memory. Choose only
one. Everything else will be forgotten. After choosing, the
memory will be recreated for you, and after experiencing it
again, you will take that feeling, that memory, into
eternity.
Filmed with a profoundly eloquent simplicity, "After Life"
takes a fairly stock movie idea — rehashing someone's
life — and makes it fresh and original through the
sparse poetry of its presentation; it takes a simple idea,
and has the wisdom to keep that idea simple, trusting the
life memories of the dead to be more than enough drama to
fuel the story.
A former documentary filmmaker, Kore-eda wisely includes
several non-actors in the cast, knowing that the real
memories they present are better than anything which could
have been scripted.
The memories are often unexpected, and, surprisingly, often
rather mundane: a cool breeze on a bus on a summer day when
you are young and have an all-day pass; playing as a child
in a bamboo grove, testing the boundaries of your young
world while securely anchored by the smell of rice cooking
from your home nearby; lying on a blanket as a baby,
watching the sunlight coming through a window just so and
warming your skin.
Beautiful, haiku moments in time, often far from
spectacular, but also somehow quietly perfect, forcing the
question: "what more could you want in life but this?"
Life, the film shows, is lived not on grand scales but
rather in small moments; and if you pay attention, those
moments are available to you all the time.
Of course, with so many moments to choose from, some of the
clients have difficulty selecting just one.
Watanabe Ichiro is one such case. He is an old man, and yet
when he looks back on his life, he can find nothing
remarkable, nothing that stands out from his uneventful
life. It falls to his caseworker, Mochizuki, to help him
select one.
Mochizuki supplies Watanabe with dozens of videotapes, then
leaves the old man alone to sift through the video archive
of his life, not yet understanding that in the old man's
search for "proof of his life," he might also find the
anwers to his own dilemma as well.
The patience and politeness the caseworkers show to their
clients is remarkable in itself; their compassion is
genuine and real. Better than anyone, they know it is not
an easy decision they are asking of their clients; they
themselves were unable to choose, which is how they came to
be caseworkers. In the "After Life" universe, being unable
to choose is the very worst thing that can happen to you.
That is your punishment: no eternal fire and torment and
demons attacking and rending and all the other
sadomasochistic folderol. "After Life" proposes a much
saner and compassionate scenario in which your punishment
is to continue with all of your memories, the good and the
bad, the happy and hurtful, and to become a caseworker
helping others move on, a period during which, ideally, the
caseworker will have time to sort out their own life and
what it meant to them.
The workers realize that their persistence is unnatural,
and most move on eventually, but while they wait they
continue to build new memories, and after awhile under the
spell of this film it is possible to find the many haiku
moments hidden in the drab, gray shadows of the office
building. Every moment, the film contends, has the
potential for beauty and wonder within it.
That assertion is often used as a horrible cliche in
American films, but the difference is that "After Life"
didn't utter the cliche, I did. The film merely lays it all
out there and trusts the audience to understand. It is
almost appalling to consider a Hollywood version of this
film, in which the point of the beauty and wonder would be
made by ramping everything up. All the colors would be
brighter, the sounds exaggerated; the memories would be
overblown and over done... over produced, as most Hollywood
films are; instead of Kore-eda's use of real people, the
caseworkers and the dead alike would almost certainly be
presented as broadly drawn types, and the memories would be
accompanied by some sappily sentimental music to tell the
audience that yes, indeed, we're having a memorable moment.
"After Life" is so emotionally true and beautiful, it is
frustrating realizing how hard a sell it is to American
audiences who might look at it side-by-side at the DVD
store with some typical bit of Hollywood fare — let's
call it "National Treasure" — only to go finally with
"National Treasure." I don't understand the reluctance, the
unwillingness to at least give something else a try. Here's
the difference: "National Treasure" will distract you from
your life for a couple of hours, sure, but "After Life"
might have the power to make you look at your life in a
completely different way. Which one is more truly deserving
of your time?
I guess it boils down to how you experience real life. Does
life, for you, truly play in the hyper-reality fashion of a
typical Hollywood film, all bright colors and flash in a
roller coaster rush?
Maybe it does, maybe I have no idea how others experience
life, but I'm willing to bet that your experience of life
is much more akin to the beautiful life moments expressed
by the dead people of "After Life." I'll bet that when you
think of a time when you were truly happy, it will be less
roller coaster ride and more like one of the key memories
from "After Life." An old woman is asked for her favorite
moment and she barely hesitates: As her nation goes to war,
the woman sits on a park bench with her boyfriend, handsome
and brave in his uniform on the eve of his shipping out;
she looks down at his hands, the fingers are interlaced,
natural and real, the only sound in the world, cicadas
whirring in the trees.