With this second feature film, a pastel winter tale sprinkled with a lot of sugar and a little sexism, Hiroshi Okuyama leaves us cold.
Girls are in pink, boys are in blue. Everyone has their place in this amiably sexist winter tale. On the Japanese island of Hokkaido, Takuya is looking for himself, tall as three apples, solitary and awkward, stuttering and wavering, amazed by a snowflake, by a nothing. He is looking for a winter sport that suits him, for which he finally feels gifted, not like baseball and hockey. In the middle of the miniature settings, pretty well-framed pastel prints, houses under the snow, harmonious lines, blue-pink skies and silhouettes filmed at constant distances, too far away for us to discern in My Sunshine, second feature by Hiroshi Okuyama, so much more than a post-Ozuian affectation sprinkled with icing sugar. The cute kids and the good-willed eldest, an ice skating teacher, keep a cheerful face on the ice rink and in their games, their radiant smiles softened.
The adult is a former skating champion who preferred with his partner to retire far from the world that judges homosexuality. Takuya, under the undulating spell of Sakura, the lotus flower girl, hangs on the ice rink, excels quickly, gets closer to the object of his affection. It works for a while, a few slips. But the trinket shatters the day Sakura surprises the teacher and his lover in their car. She'll say it's disgusting to be gay. Cruel conformism of the girl, the only (misogynistic) force imagined by the pale film. End of childish reverie, images from Epinal, indie poses with retro music and Moonlight by Debussy on repeat. Spring is early and the first snows have melted, our little heart remains frozen.
My Sunshine de Hiroshi Okuyama avec Sosuke Ikematsu, Keitatsu Koshiyama… 1h30.
Lifestyle