For the most part, "Laundry" is more convincing, realistic, real, human, and specific in the first half, and more romanticized, symbolic, magical, and transcendent in the second half. I much preferred the former.
I think the key to the breach is the reliance on a romance to move the narrative. The couple are not a real fit except perhaps in a fairy-tale. Even though Teru is a cute, cuddly guy with expressive smiles and pure intents, Mizue is clearly a step above in terms of stature and beauty. She is too much the stuff of male dreaming, especially for a coin laundry custodian. He's like a neighborhood guy who hangs out at the laundry, is burdened by a brain injury, and she is someone who seems to be moving forward in life, depressed or not. It seems like he best belongs with his typical laundry crowd , rather than with its most special customer.
In fact, I think it's his fantasy about her that puts pressure on her. It's not that he's cornering her, but that she has deep personal problems and, as such, is vulnerable to impressions. She has no real center from which to accept or deny him. And no real direction in her life to pursue on her own. And most importantly, she's under the sway of a guilt complex as an addicted and apprehended kleptomaniac. So, it's not surprising that she's often self-deprecating, too dependent, or that she regularly ties Teru's shoes for him.
The pigeon trainer, who initially belongs to the movie's compelling early realism which is so apparent in the hitchhiker scenes, becomes much less human in his home and work scenes. He not only repeats the very particular expressions from his earlier road encounter with Teru which detracts from their meanings, but he too seems now to be more a fantasy figure, signing over his middle class house and professional work to the couple, and then alighting from Japan in search of true love.
Meanwhile, the gray suburban landscape with all its burgeoning gas tanks and poverty also gets the fantasy distraction. Leaping over puddles, flying airy balloons, white ceremonial pigeons, and romantic love, do not answer to the laundry or the tanks. The fuzziness is also apparent in the seemingly several endings-- 'is this the real ending or will there be one more.'
I think the key to the breach is the reliance on a romance to move the narrative. The couple are not a real fit except perhaps in a fairy-tale. Even though Teru is a cute, cuddly guy with expressive smiles and pure intents, Mizue is clearly a step above in terms of stature and beauty. She is too much the stuff of male dreaming, especially for a coin laundry custodian. He's like a neighborhood guy who hangs out at the laundry, is burdened by a brain injury, and she is someone who seems to be moving forward in life, depressed or not. It seems like he best belongs with his typical laundry crowd , rather than with its most special customer.
In fact, I think it's his fantasy about her that puts pressure on her. It's not that he's cornering her, but that she has deep personal problems and, as such, is vulnerable to impressions. She has no real center from which to accept or deny him. And no real direction in her life to pursue on her own. And most importantly, she's under the sway of a guilt complex as an addicted and apprehended kleptomaniac. So, it's not surprising that she's often self-deprecating, too dependent, or that she regularly ties Teru's shoes for him.
The pigeon trainer, who initially belongs to the movie's compelling early realism which is so apparent in the hitchhiker scenes, becomes much less human in his home and work scenes. He not only repeats the very particular expressions from his earlier road encounter with Teru which detracts from their meanings, but he too seems now to be more a fantasy figure, signing over his middle class house and professional work to the couple, and then alighting from Japan in search of true love.
Meanwhile, the gray suburban landscape with all its burgeoning gas tanks and poverty also gets the fantasy distraction. Leaping over puddles, flying airy balloons, white ceremonial pigeons, and romantic love, do not answer to the laundry or the tanks. The fuzziness is also apparent in the seemingly several endings-- 'is this the real ending or will there be one more.'