The Box Man

Gakuryu Ishii returns, with a film 20+ years in the making (or so it was advertised). The Box Man [Hako Otoko] is an adaptation of Kobo Abe's book, which was once thought impossible to adapt to film. But Ishii doesn't care about things like that, the man is still very punk, even though that doesn't necessarily mean his recent films are sticking to the (cyber)punk aesthetic he helped establish a good four decades ago. As a result, The Box Man is a tricky film, far from the most accessible in his oeuvre, but that's exactly why you should give this a go, as there's absolutely nothing like it.

Ishii tried making this film before, around the turn of the century. He got the OK from the writer (who would never see the final product, as he died a few years later), with both Nagase and Asano already on board, but in the end, funding fell through. Ishii never truly abandoned the idea, and 25 years later his wish finally came true. So yeah, the project has been around for a while, but it's not like Ishii put his all into realizing this project for the past couple of decades. It seems a new trend to boast long production times, though they rarely represent the actual work put into the film. Whatever sells I guess.

Another marketing trick is focusing on the fact that the original (book) was thought to be impossible to adapt. It's supposed to make a film look more accomplished, though it usually just means the original isn't purely focused on narrative. There are plenty of films like that of course, but within the commercial realm of cinema, it's not all that common. No worries, The Box Man isn't a commercial project. It's a deeply personal film, based on a unique premise concocted by Abe, adapted to fit contemporary times. And it does a splendid job, though in such a way that what you get out of it is very much a reflection of your own obsessions.

A man wanders around Tokyo. He hides in a cardboard box and observes the world around him. He feels invisible and untouchable, the only real person in a world of fakers. That is until he becomes the target of a peculiar general and his uncertified doctor, who are both fascinated by the box man. They want to take the box man's place, yet they believe there can only be one such a being. It's the start of a strategic cat-and-mouse game between the three men. They get so wrapped up in their little obsession that they fail to see the bigger picture.

The Box Man isn't a full-on punk film, but it still borrows some of its aesthetics. The gritty look, the love for close-ups, and the sometimes manic camera work betray Ishii's punk roots. There's also a more poetic side to the film though, which comes with lovely colorwork, precise framing, and stylish lighting. It's not new for Ishii (think films like August in the Water or Kyoshin), but I've never seen him combine both worlds in a single film. I think the effect is lovely (a bit like Tsukamoto's Vital) and the fact that he was able to pull it off shows his growth as a director.

The score offers a similar blend of aesthetics. On the one hand, there's a more nervous, jazzy score that goes with the grittier parts of the film. But there's also room for lighter music, even some ambient/soundscapes-like work. It works well enough, but the score isn't as definitive compared to the visuals (or some of Ishii's other films for that matter). I think he could've pushed the limits more, but that would've no doubt made this film even more inaccessible. This was never going to be a crowd pleaser though, so it would have been cool to see Ishii commit in full.

Masatoshi Nagase and Tadanobu Asano are two of Japan's coolest actors, even so, their careers have rarely crossed paths. Ishii's Electric Dragon 80000 V is a notable exception, and he was smart enough to pit them against each other once again. They both know how to give life to two rather indecipherable characters who manage to hold the attention of the audience, even when things get weird and confusing. Also props to Shiramoto for handling herself extremely well between these two powerhouse. And fans of Japanese cinema will no doubt appreciate Shibukawa's small cameo. Cast-wise, I had no complaints at all.

The core theme of the film is clear enough. The Box Man stands for he who gets trapped inside his internal dialogues and, as a result, fails to recognize the outside world and its significance. The harder part is figuring out how and what to apply this to. Is it a critique of our digital lives, on armchair/cinema-inspired wisdom, on gender roles, or introverts and the cult of ego? Have your pick. There are many options here and I don't feel any single one is inherently right or wrong. It just reveals more about the person watching than what Ishii himself put into it. It certainly gives you something to talk about.

What makes this film tricky is the mix of two often incompatible niches clashing hard. If it sounds like the film is quite abstract and layered, that's because it is. If you're approaching this like a typical arthouse film though, you're going to be bummed by some of its weirder and quirkier elements. The film is not without humor and Ishii loves to add core genre elements to make things a bit more entertaining. If you're just looking for Japanese weirdness, this is going to be too slow and obtuse. From experience, I know this combo is sure to divide audiences, so you better come prepared.

The Box Man is the film where Ishii finally combines the different niches of cinema he's been exploring throughout his career. It's a precarious balance and I don't think this is his definitive masterpiece quite yet, but it's certainly a unique experience and that's something I crave these days. Great performances, a stylishly gritty presentation, pleasant befuddlement, and plenty to chew on once the credits start rolling. The Box Man has it all, just make sure you heed the film's warning/mantra. Don't obsess over the box man, or you'll become the box man.