
2010 · Tetsuya Nakashima
Devastated at the death of her four-year-old daughter, a grieving middle school teacher is horrified to discover that her students aren't as innocent as she thinks.
dir. Tetsuya Nakashima · 2010
A middle-school teacher stands before her indifferent, milk-drinking homeroom class and delivers a monologue that lasts nearly half an hour — calm, methodical, and slowly revealing itself as one of the most chilling openings in modern cinema. Tetsuya Nakashima, who arrived via advertising and the candy-colored maximalism of Kamikaze Girls and Memories of Matsuko, turns his pop stylist's arsenal to pitch-black ends: slow motion like syrup, desaturated blues, needle drops (including Radiohead) laid over cruelty with unnerving serenity. Adapted from Kanae Minato's bestselling novel, the film rotates through competing confessions, each narrator recasting what we thought we understood, a structure that owes something to Rashomon but feels closer to a trap snapping shut in stages. It became a phenomenon in Japan, was the country's Oscar submission, and made the Academy's final shortlist. Its portrait of adolescent nihilism and adult grief — each feeding the other — remains genuinely disturbing, less a whodunit than a why, asked of an entire society.
Lines of influence