Departures: 2008

Daigo (Masahiro Motoki) prepares a body for burial.

What happens when the romantic visions of a musician can no longer sustain against the cruel bearings of reality?

Such is the circumstance of one man, Daigo Kobayashi (Masahiro Motoki), in the 2008 Japanese film “Departures” (おくりびと). Beautifully sad and contemplative, the story provides a unique look into Japanese society and cultural norms through one of it’s most taboo subjects and how one man, through his boss’s mentoring and natural dexterity for detail, comes to understand his necessary place in society when all else seems to fail him.

The film begins with Daigo losing his job as a cellist after his Tokyo-based orchestra disbands. With no other prospects, he sells his cello and moves back to his hometown of Sakata, Yamagata with his wife Mika (Ryoko Hirosue) who kindly accepts the circumstances.

With no immediate family members – his mother died months before and his father abandoned him and his mother years beforehand – the Kobayashi’s move into Daigo’s  old home. Dreams of musicianship dissolved, Daigo looks for any job that will possibly take him, and through luck finds one titled “Assisting departures for an NK Agency.”

Mistaking the title as a travel agency, Daigo eagerly traverses to the office for a interview only to learn that there was a misspelling – departures was meant for “departed” – and that “NK” stands for nōkan, “encoffinment.” And only with the temptation of good pay – 500,000 yen a month, approximately 5000 dollars – does he reluctantly accept the position that his boss Shōei Sasaki (Tsutomu Yamazaki) instantly and unceremoniously offers.

Due to the high stigma attached with his new occupation as a nōkan, Daigo avoids telling Mika specifically what he is doing. But as he progresses, he slowly learns the intricacies of the practice: each step is carefully executed, each with meaning, weight, and exceptional care for the dead bodies in utmost respect for the grieving family members.

Told in a semi-flashback with a beginning to middle narrative framing, “Departures” uniquely introduces not only the taboo subject of undertakers in Japan but also how one man’s occupation mirrors his transcendence from anger to forgiveness of his father and of himself, and how perceptions of anything can be changed by virtue of one’s efforts and sense of worth.

With a brilliant performance by Masahiro Motoki – who speaks more through his eyes than through his facial expression or dialogue alone – the story is empathetically told through his perspective and respective cast. The brilliance lies within the quietest moments, where nothing yet everything is said: the smallest of details matter, from playing with small cacti absentmindedly to glances across the room, everything has a underlying weight to whom the characters are and how they act accordingly.

In addition to Motoki’s performance, Kimiko Yo – who plays Yuriko Uemura, an employee at the NK Agency – creates one of the most subtle and complex characters on screen. Only at the end when emotions and personal despair conflict does she reveal her ultimate pain, her internal demon that she cannot let go of. It’s a tragic scene, and a gripping one too: here is a woman who through personal vendetta finds herself unworthy of forgiveness or redemption, and only through Daigo’s choice to see his father does she find hope in ever coming to peace with herself.

With exceptional cinematography and a beautiful score by veteran studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi, there’s little surprise as to why “Departures” won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 2009. Multiple thematics in vein, the film offers not only a unique insight to Japanese culture but also a universally human message of forgiveness and of accepting one’s distinction in the world despite the invariability and beautifully succinct prospect of death. Most importantly, “Departures” speaks of the capacity for love to overcome the deepest and saddest pains of all.

“Unable are the loved to die.  For love is immortality.”  ~Emily Dickinson

Link to my companion piece, “Broken Bitterness”.

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