Canadian filmmaker Laurence Lévesque follows Japanese Canadian Noriko Oi on her return to her home town of Nagasaki. She is there to empty out her family house, a place she hasn’t been to in decades.
In a calm and very meticulous way she goes about sorting her parents’ effects. Both parents have died, her mother already thirty years ago. Inevitably, Noriko Oi stumbles upon certain objects that transport her back to her childhood. She also finds letters written by an unknown woman to her mother.
The story unfolds as carefully as Noriko Oi handles her parents’ past. There is no rush. The camera attentively observes every wall, every window, view or object; gently records each movement, emotion, struggle or show of relief. It follows the main character as she carefully wraps crockery, opens and closes boxes, folds blankets and strokes the letters.
The film is already well on its way when director Lévesque reveals the cause for the prevailing sense of concern we have hitherto felt. The letters to her mother were sent by a woman who lost her son during the atomic bombing of Nagasaki. She talks about the pain of knowing how much he must have suffered – an almost unbearable realisation.
The letters provide Noriko Oi some much desired insight into her mother and awakens her curiosity to know more, as well as about the national trauma suffered after the War. So she embarks upon conversations with her siblings about her mother, but also with survivors of the bombing, about their experiences and memories.
As to be expected, these exchanges are painful but at the same time essential as the picture of Noriko Oi’s mother grows more complete, and the survivors of the bombing (the Hibakushas) present a side of the story which has rarely been told. Previously silent about their experiences out of shame or shock, some now talk about it for the first time. The memories are still vivid, the details horrendous and the emotions buried away very deeply. It is uncomfortable to see an old lady giving her account of the explosion and its aftermath with an almost frozen smile on her face.
Alongside Noriko Oi, we discover the deeply personal and disturbing legacy of this historic fact which we have come to regard as a necessary means to an end. We learn this bomb not only created a crater in Nagasaki’s landscape but also within whole generations of victims, who had to learn to live with this ultimate form of destruction which punished innocent people for the faults and inadequacies of their leaders.
Because of the way these very personal stories are told, with no desire for sensation or effect, just sobering words written on paper or spoken politely in a simple setting, the impact is all the greater. At the end of it all, we have come to know the mother of Noriko Oi, a woman who has been a mystery to her for most of her life. We have been granted the honour to be part of a process of catharsis, both for the main character and the people Noriko Oi encountered. It speaks for the importance of sharing memories, whether they are personal or collective – an experience which should be considered a precious gift.
Japan, 96 minutes, 2024
Director Laurence Lévesque
Producers Rosalie Chicoine-Perreault, Catherine Boily
Writer Laurence Lévesque
Editor Marie-Pier Grignon
Cinematography Sébastien Blais
Sound Camille Demers-Lambert
Distributor: SPIRA
