The trick to reviewing a movie is to find some kind of hook. You look for some thing to grab a reader’s attention and suck them in. Sometimes though, a writer can wrack his brain trying to find a hook and come up empty. That’s what’s happened with Japón. I’ve watched the movie, alternately enjoying it and cursing it. Then when it comes to sitting down to write about it, I just come up with nothing.

Is it the movie’s fault or my own? My guess is, it’s a little of both.

Japón is the story of an artist who decides to leave Mexico City, head to a small village in a remote desert canyon, and kill himself. The man does not have a name. On imdb.com he is simply credited as “the man”. He is played by Alejandro Ferretis whose face is one of the most interesting I’ve ever come across. The man arrives at the village and is taken to an old woman’s house, away from the village and the canyon. Her name is Ascen and she has a room in her barn that she lets him have. He begins making the preparations for his death.

Over the course of the next few days, the man begins to learn more about Ascen, who is deeply religious, a widow and has a son-in-law who is less than scrupulous. Slowly, the man begins to (figuratively) come back to life, experiencing the local color, masturbating while dreaming of a lost love and finally, having consensual sex with the elderly woman. When her son-in-law tries to take advantage of her by taking her small farm, the man comes to her aid and completes his journey from being dead inside to being newly alive.

On the surface, this sounds like it could be a very moving viewing experience. It could be the kind of movie that lets you walk away from it feeling revived and grateful. In fact, it succeeds in giving you that feeling, but getting there is a little more work than most people are going to be up for.

Director Carlos Reygadas spends a lot of time letting his camera linger on the man, the old woman, the fields below the canyon rim, clouds, etc. Due to this, the pace of the film is incredibly slow and at over two hours, it’s going to lose some viewers just because of that. Additionally, Reygadas is trying to make a film that doesn’t sugarcoat the experiences the man has. When he comes across some hunters and a young boy asks him to help break a dove’s neck, the man does so, ripping the head off and tossing it to the side. Reygadas camera rests on the birds discarded head, beak still opening and closing, eyes still blinking, for the better part of a full minute.

Later, when the man stays the night in one village, we get to hear the sound of a pig being slaughtered in the nearby slaughterhouse. It’s the real thing. It’s not a sound effect. The man makes his way into the slaughterhouse and pokes and prods the entrails. The overall reason Reygadas shows us this early on is to show the man’s complete disregard for how precious life is, however it’s that kind of thing that is going to completely turn off some viewers.

If you make it past all of that though, then you will most likely be completely desensitized to the masturbation scene and then the eventual sex scene between the man and Ascen, who appears fully nude and does not shy away from the camera. That’s right, we get treated to a sex scene between a 70-year-old woman and a 40-year-old man… and it’s reasonably graphic at that.

So, where does that leave me when reviewing this film? Oddly enough, at the end of the day I enjoyed this movie on a number of levels. It’s gritty, yes, but it’s also incredibly beautiful. Reygadas’ insistence on a slow pace translates into more time to take in everything that’s happening. For every scene that slaps you in the face, there are easily two more that allow you to unwind and understand what is happening. By the end of the movie, when the son-in-law’s plan has been thwarted and Reygadas’ camera slowly shows us how, the feeling I got really was one of victory, of transformation and in a weird way, joy.

In short, Japón is the kind of film that you have to come to with an open mind and time on your hands. If you do, then you will definitely be rewarded.

Presentation
Anamorphic widescreen allows for an incredible viewing experience. Reygadas treats the viewer to beautiful panoramic shots and he knows how to fill a frame. The transfer is good although the film looks washed out occasionally. The audio cannot be faulted at all and the 5.1 sound really shines through in scenes where you can hear the rain falling all around you while classical music plays softly beneath it.

Extras
The disc includes an interview with director Carlos Reygadas. It’s short but worth watching as he talks about his ambitions when beginning the film and how he felt about the outcome.

Otherwise, we get the theatrical trailer.

The Bottom Line
Japón is a challenging viewing experience. It’s a movie that moves lineally but is still abstract in the way it draws its characters and unfolds its purpose. However, Carlos Reygadas, is definitely someone to watch and for a debut film, this easily gets three pants and a recommendation that you see it if given the opportunity.