Rating: 8 out of 10.

The fun starts right about now.

Madoka (Marika Itô) is a playwright in Shimokitazawa putting the finishing touches on her latest work to be performed by hers and Shiho’s (Riko Fujitani) troupe at the Good Heavens bar above a Chicago vintage clothing shop. Kazuma’s (Kai Inowaki) band in Sangenjaya is struggling to stay afloat with a lead guitarist (Shintaro Kanamaru’s Mikoshiba) who refuses to practice. Their ruts see both acting on a recommendation to watch a movie everyone says is great.

It’s an effective Hollywood romantic comedy premise ripe for a meet cute wherein Madoka and Kazuma fatefully cross paths at the same film to find the epiphanies necessary to fix their troubles and, perhaps, find love. This isn’t Hollywood, though. And writer/director Makoto Ueda isn’t interested in clichéd convention. So, like with his scripts for Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes and River, the Europe Kikaku founder hatches up another gimmick for his directorial debut.

The title says it all: You are the Film. When Madoka sits down in the theater next to Good Heavens, she watches Kazuma as he remembers the previous night’s drinks at his band’s usual bar (also above a Chicago vintage clothing shop) before finding his own way to that same theater. When he sits, however, he doesn’t get to watch her intro like we did. How could he? The film had already begun. All Kazuma sees instead is Madoka staring back at him from the same seat.

So, think “meet strange” where the two provide a good chunk of silence before Kazuma finally comments aloud that this film is boring. Madoka’s response? “That’s what I was going to say.” In great comedic fashion, neither questions the absurdity of this impossible conversation because they’re too busy growing frustrated with the other for not living up to the promise of an interesting story sold to them. Cue the inevitable conflict.

Her bombshell discovery is that her actors (Oshiro Maeda’s Kanbayashi and Hinako Kikuchi’s Yuna) are quitting. His is an accusation from two gangsters that Mikoshiba stole money from them and he’s on the hook for it if he can’t find him to bring to justice. Neither knows what to do about their problem, but both do wonder if the other might be able to help. Because if they are actually in a movie, maybe the camera has captured footage they haven’t seen.

Ueda has therefore left the time loop behind to play with the mechanics of the medium itself. Sure, there’s some multiverse theatrics with Madoka and Kazuma existing in the same place yet not. And there’s a meta “repairman” a la Don Knotts in Pleasantville trying to fix the anomaly while asking that neither filmgoer/star deviates from their respective scripts (gleaned from pamphlet synopses). But the real draw is how they each use film language to uncover secrets.

Because they see what we do. Flashbacks. Lingering close-ups. Cutaways. Kazuma doesn’t know where Mikoshiba went, but Madoka does. Madoka doesn’t know how both her lead actors would be quitting at the same time for different reasons, but Kazuma has an inkling. So, they decide to help the other out and confront their drama head-on with the confidence to lay their cards on the table and give their dreams one last go.

While You are the Film might only be sixty-eight minutes, you might still wonder how it isn’t shorter considering most of chaos seems solved pretty early. Don’t fret, though, as Ueda hasn’t concocted this science fiction conceit just for his lead characters to deal with simple problems like ulterior motives and conflicting ambitions. While you can probably guess how Kazuma’s tale will snowball into insanity, I’ll let the bonkers reveal for Madoka’s tale speak for itself.

The result turns into a fun little romp as the film adds more layers without ever leaning towards a cop out reset. There’s no snap of the fingers to wake everyone back up and any solution to Madoka and Kazuma’s dilemma doesn’t mean the other characters aren’t still trapped in the artifice of the anomaly. The film doesn’t just end if its leads find an escape hatch. Supporting players must simply take up the mantle left behind for themselves.

Itô and Inowaki are super endearing as our protagonists. Their angry rapport when confronted with an implausible “trick.” Their desperation upon realizing this wild situation was real. Their incredulity once their trajectories take left turns into pure cinematic excess. Both are forced into experiencing what it truly means to be the “star of their own lives” before discovering it’s not all it’s cracked up to be once rewrites go off the rails. It’s much safer just to watch.


Marika Itô and Kai Inowaki in YOU ARE THE FILM; courtesy of Fantasia International Film Festival.

Leave a Reply