In
1965, salesman Oshima Tadashi emptied the bank account he shared
with fiancée Hayakawa Yoshie and disappeared – one
of thousands of people who vanish in Japan each year. A documentary
film crew, joined by Hayakawa (quickly nicknamed ‘The Rat’
by the crew, which might give you an idea of how they felt about
her) try to discover the story behind his disappearance, interviewing
friends, workmates and other associates, and slowly build up a
picture of a complex man who had embezzled money from his employer,
had many girlfriends and a drink problem. However, the truth behind
his vanishing, and his current whereabouts, is never revealed,
as the story instead focuses more on the relationship between
Oshima, Hayakawa and her sister Sayo, with accusations, claims
and counter-claims made and denied with such certainly that the
whole story inevitably ends up as a circular argument. Meanwhile,
director Imamura Shohei appears on-screen to remind us that “this
is fiction, none of it is fact”, even though the story
is true, and the cast are non-actors playing themselves with no
script and often hidden cameras. Where the truth lies is anyone’s
guess by the end, as the film conflicts fiction, reality and cinematic
reality – which, even in the most honest documentaries,
takes on a sense of fiction caused by the presence of the camera
– to the point where nothing and everything is truth.
This twisting, often bewildering, frequently fascinating pseudo-documentary
from Imamura is a real puzzle of a film, mixing fact and fiction
and leaving the viewer frequently guessing as to what the hell
is actually going on. That’s not a condemnation, by the
way – like many true life mysteries, this story may not
reach a tidy conclusion, but the investigation throws up far more
interesting questions than a straight-forward answer could ever
provide. In the end, the missing man is little more than a cipher
– a macguffin if you like – and no-one seems that
interested in discovering his fate; they all have other motivations,
other issues to explore.
With a Godardian feel, a teasing and unresolved mystery and a
playful approach to ‘truth’, all wrapped in a film
that consists mostly of people talking – sometimes in a
single space for long periods of time – A Man Vanishes
could be hard work. That it isn’t is tribute to the skill
of the director, who takes this endless circle of a tale and makes
it a fascinating rumination on the nature of fiction, both cinematic
and social. Not for everyone, perhaps, but if you like your cinema
to push both boundaries and buttons, this will more than suffice.
In
1965, salesman Oshima Tadashi emptied the bank account he shared
with fiancée Hayakawa Yoshie and disappeared – one
of thousands of people who vanish in Japan each year. A documentary
film crew, joined by Hayakawa (quickly nicknamed ‘The Rat’
by the crew, which might give you an idea of how they felt about
her) try to discover the story behind his disappearance, interviewing
friends, workmates and other associates, and slowly build up a
picture of a complex man who had embezzled money from his employer,
had many girlfriends and a drink problem. However, the truth behind
his vanishing, and his current whereabouts, is never revealed,
as the story instead focuses more on the relationship between
Oshima, Hayakawa and her sister Sayo, with accusations, claims
and counter-claims made and denied with such certainly that the
whole story inevitably ends up as a circular argument. Meanwhile,
director Imamura Shohei appears on-screen to remind us that “this
is fiction, none of it is fact”, even though the story
is true, and the cast are non-actors playing themselves with no
script and often hidden cameras. Where the truth lies is anyone’s
guess by the end, as the film conflicts fiction, reality and cinematic
reality – which, even in the most honest documentaries,
takes on a sense of fiction caused by the presence of the camera
– to the point where nothing and everything is truth.
