THE STORY – When a young student shows signs of trauma, his parents act swiftly against his middle school teacher. But all may not be as it seems, leading the scales of justice to tip in fascinating, heartbreaking ways.
THE CAST – Gô Ayano, Ko Shibasaki, Kazuya Kamenashi, Ken Mitsuishi & Fumino Kimura
THE TEAM – Takashi Miike (Director) & Hayashi Mori (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 129 Minutes
Conversations about Takashi Miike tend to begin and end with the mention of “Audition,” and while it makes sense for the Japanese director to be best regarded for his most famous and beloved work, it’s a bit like talking about Steven Soderbergh as the man behind “Ocean’s Eleven.” Even Soderbergh, a chameleonic auteur, to say the least, is boxed in by Miike’s standards. Perhaps a better example would be combining Soderbergh’s filmography with that of Robert Zemeckis and David Fincher and only ever talking about “Forrest Gump.” “Audition“ is far and away a better film than “Forrest Gump“ could ever dream of being. Still, the point of this inane exercise is to emphasize the fact that while its intense violence and bizarre dramatics have largely characterized Miike’s works, he’s also the purveyor of other genre fare, from family-friendly films to straightforward dramas that could feasibly land in multiplexes were his work a bit more mainstream. In other words, if his films were in English.
That’s what happens when you direct over 100 films in the span of three-plus decades, and only one or two of them break through as bonafide classics with Western audiences: Your body of work is neglected, if not outright forgotten. It’s hardly Miike’s fault, as the blame belongs to distributors hell-bent on delivering soulless refuse that serves broader audiences rather than taking a “risk,“ as foreign films are still too frequently deemed these days, on an independent offering that would almost certainly do wonders for curious American viewers who are willing to overcome what Bong Joon-ho famously called the “one-inch tall barrier of subtitles.“
A film like “Sham,” Miike’s latest that world premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival this week, fits that bill to a tee, as it combines two genres even the most basic cinephiles are prone to eating up with a spoon. Part legal thriller and part domestic family drama – and based on true events, to plop a cherry on top – it’s a fascinating portrait of how severe accusations can impact one’s trial no matter how based in truth they really are, and how the accused’s life can be upended based on allegations alone (It’s also arriving during a run of fascinating legal thrillers taking place in schools, like “The Teacher’s Lounge” and “About Dry Grasses“). Better yet, it’s handled in a non-linear fashion that doesn’t distract, aiding its story to the point where it never feels as though we’re out of place, never mind the chronological factor.
The facts of the case: Yabushita Seiichi (Gô Ayano), an elementary school teacher who prides himself on being strict yet fair, is accused by Ritsuko Himuro (Ko Shibasaki) of psychologically tormenting her son (Kira Miura), one of Yabushita’s students. By all accounts, based on how the film opens – with a title card marking the fact that we’re witnessing the mother’s testimony – her story is factual. Miike depicts each side’s case as it is argued, starting with scenes showing Yabushita abusing the boy in an increasingly disturbing fashion. He calls the family’s blood “tainted“ after learning that Ritsuko’s father was purportedly American; he throws the boy’s backpack in the garbage and stomps on it to the point where it could feasibly be in ruins; he notes three potential punishments (“Headbang, Pinocchio, or Bunny,”) and performs the latter two, pulling on his student’s nose and holding him up by his ears, both until blood is drawn; and finally, he encourages the boy to commit suicide by jumping off the roof of the school. It’s in line with Miike’s traditional narrative interests, the portrayal of a sociopathic male who grins and chuckles as he doles out irreversible trauma like a school caterer might sloppy joes.
But before we can be too convinced that Yabushita is unequivocally guilty of these crimes, Miike’s official title card drops, following the defendant’s claim that the entire trial is a “sham.“ What follows from there is the portrait of a far more sympathetic educator, one who is a fair disciplinarian with a focus on treating the members of his class without a lick of prejudice. To add more contrast, Yabushita’s account paints the boy as a bully, one who tortures his classmates, beating them and only being bloodied when hit with a stray defensive swing. A key element on both sides is a home visit that Yabushita pays to speak with Ritsuko regarding her son’s progress in school. Yet, his position argues that he only commented on the family’s American heritage, not discriminatorily but in passing. The reports of this ongoing incident exist in stark contrast to one another, but matters become more complicated for Yabushita after he is coerced – in his version – by his bosses to admit full wrongdoing and deliver a sincere apology to the parents of all his students, essentially admitting guilt.
The remainder of “Sham“ unfolds from Yabushita’s point of view on the situation, which would theoretically imply that Miike and writer Hayashi Mori are tipping their hand. However, given the main character’s convincing remorse for the whole ordeal, we’re never entirely sure what happened. Is he bluffing for the sake of his innocence? Do the sociopathic tendencies we see in the film’s first act afford him acting abilities that most Academy Award winners lack? Or is Yabushita actually the reserved, decent man we see when he’s at home with his wife (“Love Life’s” Fumino Kimura) and son, barely holding his life together as the ground he once felt secure on crumbles beneath him? There’s an obviousness to the script that is almost entirely rendered forgotten given Miike’s veteran touch as a filmmaker, his innate understanding of what constitutes intrigue in a tale such as this overshadowing even the largest contrivances on the page.
It certainly helps that Gô’s lead performance could lead us to believe either interpretation of the film’s double-edged story, as he expertly toggles back and forth (as long as the film does) between vicious and virtuous. In a sense, Ko does the same, though her balance is more about being timid in one half and staid in the other; we see her in a state that is blank and emotionless far longer than we ever see her frightened by the actions and presence of her child’s teacher, a condition that is at times more severe than Yabushita ever was. But where the film really sings is in being a masterful exercise in tension-building and in delivering reveals that aren’t opulent so much as they are pivotal, a crash course in what can be achieved when a director is more keen to hold back than to go nuclear with their grandiosity. “Sham“ is precisely the kind of film a director more synonymous with pomp and circumstance might make preposterous and melodramatic – one shudders at what Aaron Sorkin would make with its material, though it would be a treat to watch Sidney Lumet play in this sandbox – but in Miike’s hands, it’s the ideal mix of serious and silly. You believe its stakes, and you enjoy the journey to its outcome. Regardless of whether or not stories like it are based on facts, it’s never not stimulating to watch a seasoned filmmaker like Miike turn something basic into something thrilling.
