It seems something of a strange choice to analogise authoritarian governance to the caprices of a narcissistic school principal. However, the fact that I am making that observation probably indicates that my future is not in film writing. Happyend does just what I have described and does so to glorious effect. It is set in a dystopian Japan, where the Prime Minister utilises earthquakes, and his own vilification of foreigners, as a pretext for greater consolidation of government power. This broad political backdrop is mirrored in the film’s comparatively smaller stakes narrative, as Principal Nagai (played perfectly by Shirō Sano) uses a harmless prank to institute a despotic surveillance system.
On a thematic level, this proves rich and fertile ground. It demonstrates that the path to accepting autocracy is not crossed with a single leap but by slow and agonising steps. It shows us the myriad of ways in which we can be oppressed by bullies and tyrants in our daily lives.
Despite all this, I reject The Guardian’s depiction of the film as “Orwellian”. I understand the impulse, given the detailed portrait of surveillance and administrative overreach. However, what is most striking about the film is not merely its political subtext but its mimetic representation of adolescence. Hayato Kurihara and Yukito Hidaka are wonderful as Yuta and Kou. Central to the film’s message is an intrinsically optimistic appraisal of youth and a heart wrenching demonstration of how disparities in maturity can cause a rift among childhood friends. There is something delightfully rugged about these two young lads and the way they utilise music (a symbolic expression of freedom) to connect with each other amidst their differences around political intervention. At the end of the film, democracy and youthful protest triumph. Orwell was too cynical to dream like that.
“Caméra de vidéo-surveillance” by zigazou76 is licensed under CC BY 2.0.