Toronto International Film Festival 2023: MONSTER: Finding Happiness In A Perplexing World
Kevin L. Lee is an Asian-American critic, producer, screenwriter and…
There is so much that children keep hidden from adults, whether it is insecurity or self-loathing or the discovery of new feelings that are not yet fully understood. When they’re dealing with such confusion, it’s no wonder why a void can form between parent and child. There can be miscommunication, misunderstanding, or just a lack of information. And when it comes to adults, we don’t do well with lack of information. We’ve been beaten down by the hardships of reality for so long, we can only presume and jump to conclusions, in the hopes of making sense of what’s happening around us.
Marked as the first time Hirokazu Kore-eda directed a film he did not write himself since 1995, Monster tells a rather simple story on the surface, that of single mother Saori Mugino (Sakura Andō) noticing that her son Minato (Sōya Kurokawa) has begun to act strangely at home. Suspecting that something is wrong and it may involve his school, she visits the principal (Yūko Tanaka) and school board to figure out what is going on.
Being Kept in the Dark
We can immediately sense that something is wrong, and in some way, shape, or form, Minato’s behavior is influenced by how his homeroom teacher, Hori-sensei (Eita Nagayama), treats him. But no other details are shared. The principal reads off of a prepared statement by the school board, and nobody directly answers Saori’s questions. Even on the next visit, she makes no progress. For a parent, the only thing worse than worrying about the safety of your child is being withheld information about it from the very people who are supposed to educate and protect him. At one point, Saori questions whether she’s even talking to human beings, or if they’re just robots.
Monster unravels like a tense mystery during this opening chapter, as the audience is kept in the dark with Saori, and the introduction of another child named Yori (Hinata Hiiragi) further complicates things. Through Kore-eda’s careful direction, almost in a restrained take on an Asghar Farhadi film, we can pick up on some possible clues, but they’re scattered pieces of the puzzle that don’t seem to form a picture. One of these clues is Hori-sensei’s forced restraint. With Nagayama’s facial performance matching Andō’s, it is clear that he’s silenced by his own school in a way.
The script then eventually moves on to Hori-sensei’s perspective, as the film gives itself almost a soft reset on all the events in the film, but in a brand new point of view akin to Rashomon.
Constant Evolution
The remarkable part of Monster is how the new chapter does not feel like a rehash of what we just saw. In the beginning, we spend enough time between mother and son to see the challenges Saori experiences as a single mother. Their relationship isn’t negative but it isn’t the happiest either. Hori-sensei’s segment does more than show a different take on one event, it spends time for us to get to know him as a young man eager to teach and make a difference. We learn that he’s a newcomer to the school and ready to start a new chapter in his career. When we get a glimpse at what could’ve possibly happened with the students at school, we see how so much of Hori-sensei’s actions are reactionary, as any careful caring teacher would.
But his point of view doesn’t really matter. It’s the optics of the situation, how it would look to the parents. And so we come back to the events from the first chapter but through a completely different set of context, a different lens.
The strongest component of Monster is Kore-eda’s compassion. He directs these chapters as if both characters are right. They are right, by the way, and the audience is privileged but also burdened to understand how both sides arrived at their presumptions. They are, after all, struggling to make sense of what’s going on. This gives the film not only a palpable sense of unpredictability but a story that’s constantly evolving and changing, giving us a chance to reassess our previous interpretations, all while showing empathy for normal working folk.
Finding Happiness
And then Monster presents the child’s point of view. Here, it is arguable that it becomes a completely different film, but it is all in service of Kore-eda and writer Yuji Sakamoto’s core message – that children, at an age of discovering who they are, experience a completely different world from the adults, beyond what we can presume or speculate. In the moments of suspense or mystery, the film addresses this “tunnel vision” not as a harsh criticism but as a tragedy. We can never know if we don’t look hard enough.
However, under the guidance of the late and great Ryuichi Sakamoto, in his final score, Kore-eda presents this final chapter with the children almost like its own universe, its own safe space. With such an impressive filmography of various films, Kore-eda continues to demonstrate he is one of the greatest directors of child actors. Both Kurokawa and Hiiragi give immaculate performances as innocent, curious, and vulnerable children. Their scenes together play almost like they’re in slow motion, where we want their joy to last forever and we constantly hope for the best.
It is when their storyline converges with Saori’s and Hori-sensei’s, with events that we’ve seen earlier in the film, that the pieces truly start to align, and we begin to realize what is actually happening. When it clicks, it is an earth-shattering moment that feels like a point of no return. But Kore-eda holds your hand throughout the entire journey, making the film such a devastating but beautiful experience.
Monster: A Gentle Masterpiece
With a simple premise but endless complexity, Monster sees Hirokazu Kore-eda’s compassion and empathy presented at such a masterful level. The screenplay is brilliantly structured and unpredictable in the best way, the performances are heartbreaking, and the piano score devastates. It is a roller coaster of emotions, gently guided by Kore-eda through to the very end.
Monster premiered at the Cannes Film Festival on May 17, 2023. It was released in theaters in Japan by Gaga Corporation and Toho on June 2, 2023.
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema - get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.
Kevin L. Lee is an Asian-American critic, producer, screenwriter and director based in New York City. A champion of the creative process, Kevin has consulted, written, and produced several short films from development to principal photography to festival premiere. He has over 10 years of marketing and writing experience in film criticism and journalism, ranging from blockbusters to foreign indie films, and has developed a reputation of being “an omnivore of cinema.” He recently finished his MFA in film producing at Columbia University and is currently working in film and TV development for production companies.