I wish this milkwoman WOULD deliver my milk, in the morning!

I'm going to attempt to write about a film called "The Milkwoman" directed by Ogata Akira that I saw earlier this evening. I had so many thoughts about it I don't think I'll get them all in. It tells the story of the suppressed love between two middle aged people who briefly dated at school. But these are just the bones on which hangs a slow moving meditation on life, illness, frailty, the passing of time and human interaction. Living their lives separately despite living in close proximity there are a number of occasions where their paths regularly cross, such as the morning milk delivery or the milkwoman's journey to work at her second job at the supermarket "S-Mart" on her bike, passing as she does the man, Takanashi, waiting at the bus stop.
Two other major characters are that of the aunt and uncle of the milkwoman Minako. The aunt is caring for her husband, a former English professor, who is slipping into dementia. She also partly tells the story as she is writing about what she sees in Minako's life. A particularly affecting sequence represents the uncle in a confused state rushing around the house as the day passes. There is a local legend of a hungry boy called the curry boy who roams the streets with a spoon sniffing out tasty curries to eat. This character has wormed its way into the uncle's mind and he sees the child and seems almost to take on the role of the child as his dementia worsens and he regresses and words slip away from him.
This story strand runs parallel to Takanashi's whose wife is terminally ill and who takes care of her at home and works for the council. His wife says at the beginning of the film that she feels he is just trying to get through each day as easily as possible and she eventually realises the existence of a connection between Takanashi and Minako and tries to persuade them to get together when she is gone. Takanashi begins to get involved in a social services case relating to two young boys neglected by their mother. This seems to be an outlet of sorts for all the emotions he has been bottling up for so long.
The subject of time passing and what makes up those years is a strong element with the aunt saying at one point of her husband that she doesn't want to write about her life with him but to know what goes on inside his head. There is a definite feeling of place too, the city of Saito looks a beautiful place nestled in mountains and surrounded by forest. It is built over several hills and the stepped paths between the houses are a regular haunt of Minako as she traverses them on her milk delivery route. It is wonderful to see her get up before it is light and cycle her way down to the milkman's store. Of course I would say that as those dawn and dusk times are my favourites for still and moving images.
The supermarket "S-Mart" is a great location too, it's fantastic to see the details of their uniforms, natty blue coats, and the aisles packed with food. There is a little minor drama there too with two other checkout women, one a gossip who always seems to be eating the produce and looks like a Japanese Joan Rivers, and a younger girl who we hear has a young child. She has been having a fling with the manager which provides some comedy but also links in to the subject matter of the rest of the film. She talks to Minako about living alone and its obvious she can't cope with that and is looking for some kind of companionship. Minako's advice? Tire yourself out during the day and you'll be fine.
All together the film feels very solid, the people and their environs hold a weight which will hopefully sit in my memory (sadly I think it will be difficult to get hold of a DVD but I'd love to watch it again). So I think with the inaugural film in a season supposed to give a picture of contemporary Japanese people they have done a good job. Not only seeing the city itself but people's houses too with their things lying around in a haphazard way, papers, books, kitchen utensils. Generally the camera is pretty static but on a few occasions it takes to the ground and moves in a handheld manner, a couple of sequences with Minako exerting herself to a soundtrack of her laboured breathing spring to mind. Also the camera becomes wonderfully free floating and de-centred at a point of realisation and certain resolution, preceding a torrential rainstorm.