In ‘After the Storm,’ Every Moment is a Discovery

Nothing much happens in “After the Storm,” a family drama written and directed by Hirokazu Koreeda, but this never seems to matter: It is less a story than a journey for the audience to get to know the characters. The film follows Ryota (Hiroshi Abe), an author-turned private detective and inveterate gambler, over the course of several days. Koreeda gradually reveals Ryota’s relationships with his mother Yoshiko (Kirin Kiki); his sister Chinatsu (Satomi Kobayashi); and most of all with his ex-wife Kyoko (Yoko Maki) and son Shingo (Taiyô Yoshizawa). Overlaying the human interactions is the threat of an incoming typhoon, one that traps Ryota in his mother’s apartment with Kyoto and Shingo and drives the climactic moment of the film.

Koreeda’s greatest triumph in “After the Storm” is the way in which he generates understanding without exposition. Never once is there a clunky moment in the film’s dialogue. Koreeda leaves the audience to piece together the story from the characters’ side comments and remarks. These are rarely explained fully, and an unobservant viewer may miss details of the family dynamics. This, however, only adds to the intense realism of the film, and suggests the characters’ intimate knowledge of each other. Koreeda leaves the audience to figure out the characters and their relationships.

None of these relationships change significantly throughout the film. Ryota’s attempts to win back Kyoko fail, his sister still doesn’t trust him, and he’s still a gambler who’s always in need of cash. There is very little real drama and very few moments that will significantly affect any of the characters’ lives. Yet the film is never boring—every moment, every conversation is relevant and helps the audience discover who these people are.

However, Ryota has changed subtly by the end of the movie. Koreeda leaves the audience with little hope that Ryota and Kyoko will ever get back together, or even that he’ll ever finish his second novel. But at the very least he seems to have a renewed commitment to fatherhood. Still, Koreeda resists the temptation to tell a tale of redemption. Only the slightest hints are given that Ryota is on a better path—him giving Shingo sole rights to lottery tickets they bought together, for example. Ultimately, it remains an open question whether he has gone through any transformative growth.

Other brilliant features include the cinematography and the acting. The camerawork is simple and clean and fits well with the human scale of the picture. In terms of acting, the whole ensemble does solid work, but a few bright spots shine out. Abe’s portrayal of Ryota makes what could otherwise be an unappealing character a lovable loser. The true star, however, is Kiki. Yoshiko is already a huge part of the film, but Kiki’s performance makes one wish her role was even larger. She embodied the sweetly sad and funny character in a remarkable way. Her interactions with Ryota in particular set a new standard for depictions of relationships between elderly mothers and their adult children. Ryota is at once a good friend and her misguided son, and Kiki nimbly dances the blurred lines between these roles.

In the last minutes of the movie, the storm clears. Little has been washed away, either from the streets or the characters. The rain has created the potential for new growth, however, and this slight hope gives the film its power.