THE STORY – A rising J-Pop idol named Mai finds her career in jeopardy when she falls in love, violating the “no dating” clause in her contract.
THE CAST – Yuri Kura, Karata Erika, Kenjiro Tsuda & Kyoko Saito
THE TEAM – Koji Fukada (Director) & Shintaro Mitani (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 124 Minutes
Japanese writer-director Koji Fukada returns to the Croisette with this superbly made J-pop drama, which is being presented in the Cannes Premiere section of the 78th Cannes Film Festival. It marks Fukada’s third selection at Cannes, following the psychological family thriller “Harmonium” (the winner of the Jury Prize in 2016) and his 2020 compilation romance “The Real Thing,” which was selected for inclusion in 2020, the year the festival was canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Kyoko Saito (a former J-pop idol who was a member of Hinatazaka46) plays Mai, one of the J-pop group Happy Fandom members, who has legions of devoted fans but has not yet broken big. When she meets street mime artist Kei (Yuki Kura), she falls in love, and the pair begin seeing each other, but that puts Mai in direct violation of the “no relationships” clause in her contract. She soon finds herself in legal trouble, as her management company decides to take her to court.
The film is based on a true story. Fukada was inspired to write the script after reading a newspaper article about a similar situation. To help co-write, he turned to Shintaro Mitani, a source of inside knowledge of the J-pop world who has written extensively for J-pop idols. Accordingly, the script feels authentic in depicting the protagonists’ on-stage and off-stage lives, particularly in how they interact with their fans—who are almost exclusively male and older—at signing events. Essentially, in public, everything is performative, but more than that, it’s about creating a fantasy of purity for the male fanbase. The script grapples with its central theme in several interesting ways. For example, Mai’s fate is foreshadowed when another group member goes on a date with a boy and is then seen on a viral social media post. Her fanbase immediately turns on her, and she’s vilified online, forcing her into a humiliating public repudiation of the boy she likes and a promise never to see him again. The film’s title is pleasingly apt because, besides being literal (Mai ends up in the dock, defending her love for Kei), it also applies to the broader pressure that’s brought on relationships. It’s an engagingly provocative subject since the “no relationships” clause is shockingly regressive and a fundamental human rights violation that is simply accepted as normal within the industry.
The script is full of great details, from the fact that the band members have to essentially stroke the egos of each of their fans by faking interpersonal connection to a more chilling glimpse into just how that can go terrifyingly wrong when one fan is sent over the edge by his chosen idol’s “betrayal.” Similarly, the script is peppered with nice little lines and moments that directly spring from the existence of the clause, such as Mai and Kei having to text each other from opposite sides of the street, in case they are being watched, to a shocked Mai exclaiming, “I’m alone in a boy’s house!” after Kei gives her a lift home and tells her that he lives in his van. There’s also a very funny pay-off, whereby one of the band members finds a way around the clause on her own, effectively playing the system at its own game by exploiting its misogynistic prejudices. In the third act, the film takes a satisfying turn into courtroom drama when Mai—now out of the group—takes the stand in her trial. The various wrangling legal arguments are consistently fascinating, not least because in the two real-life cases that have taken place, one ended in victory for the pop star and the other for the management.
Kyoko Saito is terrific as Mai, always the most serious member of the group. Even before she meets Kei, she’s already feeling ground down by the constant demands placed on them by the management. She has a thoughtful quality and a stoicism that really comes into its own in the courtroom scenes, where you constantly scrutinize her facial reactions. Yuri Kara is equally good as Kei, whose street magician lifestyle contrasts sharply with Mai’s. He also generates touching chemistry with Saito, and their interactions are a pleasure to watch. Similarly, their relationship evolves in what feels like a very realistic manner throughout the film, another testament to the strong writing. The film is further heightened by some top-notch production design work and by Hidetoshi Shinomiya’s sleek cinematography, which pointedly contrasts the cold, colorless interiors of the courtrooms with the bright, bubblegum colors of the girls’ rooms and performance spaces.
The only element that doesn’t work is a tiny nod toward fantasy when Kei performs a particular magic trick involving levitation that is never explained. It’s charming in the moment (it takes place on a rooftop), but it ultimately leaves the audience with frustrating unanswered questions, and it’s not really consistent with the tone of the rest of the film. That minor qualm aside, this is an emotionally engaging and compellingly provocative drama with a sharply written script, a pretty great soundtrack, and a terrific central performance from Kyoko Saito.
