It’s Only Talk is a Japanese movie that will be showing this weekend at the New York Asian Film Festival.
I’ve only seen the trailer so far, and I can tell I’m going to love it. Certain genres within Japanese literature and film capture life in it’s most mundane and depressing. The narratives are heavily manipulated, stylized to show the daily struggles that we all go through just to live.
If life progresses in strange elipses obstructed by glaciers and canyons, then the life that is portrayed in these narratives (think Yasunari Kawabata) is a narrow path pocked with tiny blemishes. That’s not to make out our struggles as insignificant. The protagonist in It’s Only Talk is manic depressive. But it’s to say that the bumps occur and reoccur. We climb the mountain everyday. And we’ll climb it again tomorrow.
I point out It’s Only Talk not just because I’m predicting its brilliance, but because it’s the type of narrative that I try to create. It’s the movie that I would make, the story that I would write, the comic that I would sketch, if I could. I’d like to believe that I’ll get there. I’d like to believe that at one point, I’ll have a story that has the power to reflect the beauty and cruelty of the everyday.
In the meantime, you’ll find me sitting in the theatre watching this movie, laptop in hand, hoping that some of that brilliance will rub off on me.