To the Ends of the Earth (2019) User Reviews

Song of the Goat of Uzbekistan

[wickedmikehampton · 7/10 · 13 August 2020]

It's rare that quirky films are slowburners which gives 'To the Ends of the Earth' its own footprint. I'm glad that was in a patient mood and in a quiet space otherwise I may not have become hypnotised. Desiring to see Uzbekistan in a movie for the first time helped my motivation,

Yoko is the presenter for a Japanese television show. The all-male film crew are seemingly indifferent to her as they stutter from one scene to the next, shooting meaningless footage the director thinks is important. That installs the theme of feeling disconnected, and that is how the viewer may feel at the start as a film.

When on set, Yoko is more a prop than a person. After hours, she continually escapes on bizarre sightseeing trips that provide more real insight into the country and herself. Despite repeatedly getting lost and scared, she's driven to do so again.

The metaphor's are powerful. Her misadventures express her fear of being emotionally lost and out of place in this world. But the truth is that she's afraid of herself, and had walled herself off from the joys around her. The goat she finds and wants to set free is surely herself.

It's a delightful, sad and sweet film for intelligent viewers, making it easy for me to forgive its melodramatic singing moment. It's two stars better than director Kiyoshi Kurosawa's 'Before We Vanish' and one star better than 'Journey to the Shore'. I'm going to seek his 'Tokyo Sonata'.

I fear that the title 'To the Ends of the Earth' will limit the audience reach. Oddball films for the arty crowds need something catchier like 'Song of the Goat of Uzbekistan'.

Mubi; THE UNCANNY UNIVERSE OF KIYOSHI KUROSAWA

[yusufpiskin · 8/10 · 1 January 2021]

Hands down my most favorite film I've seen this year on Mubi. Truly honest cinema. I know I say this every time I watch anything exceptional, but this here is a very special film I want you all to experience in the theater before it leaves.

Following a naive Japanese woman reporter and her crew in Uzbekistan, we get to accompany a trip in which everything never goes according to plan and the locals never seem to appreciate their presence. It tells a story of how a failed effort to produce a typical shallow travel variety show turns into a journey of self-realization and genuine human contact. A treatise on the diminishing possibility of meaningful intercultural exchange under the current stage of global capitalism, but also its precious value.

Kurosawa's meta-travel documentary piece masterfully dissects the superficiality of globalization, the culture of tourism made possible by the elimination of space through time-that flexible intercontinental mobility of air travel and the instantaneity of digital media-which should serve to bring cultures together, yet paradoxically, ultimately pulls them apart. Sitting in front of TVs and computers, we screen alien cultures in the comfort of our couch, oblivious to the unimaginable life that goes on behind the colorful scenes.

It's a profound meditation on what it means to be a traveller rather than a tourist, to be a participant rather than a spectator, to look past the shiny surface of capitalism's reductive mediatization of differences. It's an invitation to get lost and then, from those in-between places of otherness, stumble upon a way.

As Shuji Terayama would have said: throw away your maps, wander in the bazaars!

The Sound of Uzbek

[politic1983 · 6/10 · 8 October 2019]

Kiyoshi Kurosawa's best work has always been when he's stepped away from straight horror: The psychological thriller of "Cure" and family drama of "Tokyo Sonata" his two stand-out films. His latest, "To the Ends of the Earth", shows a young woman quite literally finding her voice while lost and confused in a foreign land.

Yoko (Atsuko Maeda) is a young TV travel show presenter in rural Uzbekistan working with a three man crew. Along with their translator Temur (Adiz Rajabov) they join a local fisherman to hunt a giant fish of local legend. But, as Yoko makes a brave face for the camera, they have no luck; the fisherman blaming the fact that the scent of a woman scares the fish away. Dejected, they pass on to a nearby village where director Yoshioka (Shota Sometani) talks her in to eating undercooked food for the camera. She does so with a smile.

Not exactly feeling the love from her crew, she decides to head off on her own to visit the local bazaars. But, while a travel show presenter, she knows little about the language, geography or culture of the country she is currently within. Lost, she wanders the streets alone, scared, eventually finding a bus that takes her to her hotel. On her lone journey, however, she does find something she can perhaps connect with.

Once they reach the capital Tashkent, they realise they have little workable footage. Again, Yoko wanders off alone, discovering the Navoi Theatre. Here she has a moment of revelation. On hearing Temur's story regarding the theatre, the crew seem inspired, but Yoshioka is less convinced that this will be "useable" footage. They carry on, with Yoko enthusiastic for the camera for one last try, but again her wandering sees her lost, as the closer she gets to the local milieu, the more she runs away from it.

As Temur describes when alone with Yoko, Uzbekistan is a landlocked nation in the centre of the Eurasian continent. As such, to him the sea, and indeed an island nation like Japan, represent freedom. There is perhaps an obvious metaphor at work here in the cultural differences between the nationalities. Yoko is a TV presenter who can go anywhere in the world, yet feels little freedom in her work. Her decision to release a goat for the show is a somewhat bizarre one, as is the usually rigid Yoshioka's willingness to humour her. What they end up with isn't necessarily good footage, but perhaps from the experience they learn a little about the land they are in.

The "tourist gaze" is a theme running through "To the Ends of the Earth". The crew end up with little to work with and are often frustrated: unable to locate mythical beasts; eating underprepared food; and getting lost in the bazaars. This is what the viewers will want to see. But the real Uzbekistan is seen when the camera stops.

But this is countered by the nature of modern tourism itself. While smiling for the camera, when out wandering on her own Yoko is fearful, running away from anyone speaking to her in local dialect, including the police. Filming or taking photos of official buildings in restricted areas is something commonly forbidden without permission and something, as a tour guide, she should perhaps know. But when approached, she runs, seemingly terrified by anyone not speaking Japanese.

The Navoi Theatre is a central element towards the film's conclusion, though as Temur diligently explains his motivations for learning Japanese, one feels this could be wedged-in to cement the two nations' co-production to mark the anniversary of diplomatic relations. Yoko feels a connection to the Navoi Theatre, but is this due to some unspoken telepathy of its links to the Japanese? Perhaps why Yoko feels more comfortable there.

But Yoko's connection to the theatre is two-fold. Her real desire is to sing, as she confides in cameraman Iwao (Ryo Kase). This leads to an unexpected, and somewhat awkward, moment inside the theatre. But again, from having found her voice, she is brought back to where she is instantly, again running away. Inevitably, the final shot sees Yoko return to her true calling, and it appears to be the lead in "The Sound of Music". The concluding shot isn't perhaps an image you'd want to end on, and as "To the Ends of the Earth" builds, it deserves a less awkward conclusion.

But Kurosawa is teaching us about the pitfalls of modern day tourism, which Yoko learns, but has she has learnt more about herself than the country? As she is taught the hard way, perhaps she will learn, and indeed enjoy, more about the country if she took the time to stop and listen to its people. But for her viewers at home, Uzbekistan could have been any of the four corners of the Earth.

politic1983.home.blog

Sound of Music Japan Style.

[net_orders · 7/10 · 19 February 2021]

After a slow start, film builds to a SOUND OF MUSIC (1965) like ending. Principal actress Atsuko Maeda plays a strong women with conviction (Maeda is also a former J-pop singer and can really sing!). Some comedy and lots of suspense (mostly imaged) when Atsuko's character takes a self-guided tour by herself of some scary parts of a foreign city. This includes a run in with the local police (apparently using real police officers). Unfortunately, sound mix of Maeda and full orchestra is not great - orchestra drowns out the singer! Direction and acting (including locals) is fine. Production value is high. Subtitles are good enough. Viewed at JICC J-Film event. WILLIAM FLANIGAN

Beautiful concept, listless plot

[gbill-74877 · 6/10 · 16 January 2023]

As soaring as Atsuko Maeda's rendition of Edith Piaf's Hymne à l'Amour is to the backdrop of the mountains surrounding Tashkent, Uzbekistan, this is a rather flat film. Maeda plays a TV journalist traveling with a small crew to capture a travelogue of sorts. In some of the film's best moments, we see her flip her TV personality on like a light switch and become animated, which is quite a contrast to the pensive person she is while not on camera. We also see how she's treated a bit like a prop by the crew, certainly not being in control and forced, for example, to ride a nausea-inducing rickety deathtrap of an amusement park ride more than once, with little regard for what it was doing to her. As a young woman, she's also eyed warily by the locals, but we ultimately see that they are reasonable and kind, which was probably part of the film's larger goal, to celebrate the 25th anniversary of diplomatic relationship between Japan and Uzbekistan.

Unfortunately, director (and writer) Kiyoshi Kurosawa just didn't put together a compelling enough story, or to expand on its numerous subplots in a satisfying way. The forced labor to build the Navoi Theater by Japanese POW's after WWII was mentioned but undeveloped further, and other incidents like the young woman's boyfriend being at risk because of a fire in Tokyo she sees on the TV felt the same way, just failed attempts at plot escalation. She wanders aimlessly and awkwardly (if not recklessly) through markets, perhaps a metaphor for her character aimlessly moving through life in a job she doesn't enjoy when her real passion is singing, but I didn't feel any real soul searching here. It's unfortunate because being transported to Uzbekistan, the culture clash, the window into the artificiality of tourism, and the main character's personal crisis were all of interest to me, and I feel the film could have been so much better. It had its moments though.

How new humans communicate with the world

[highjin · 10/10 · 3 April 2020]

Through the heroine Yoko's traveling, movie shows how self-centered and empty the way humans relate to a strange world. The protagonist Yoko's job is a reporter, and this job forces her to show exaggerated and ridiculous acting in front of camera. The relationship with all humans on the film location is awkward and strange, whether it is a co-worker or a filming subject. The human beauty that audience expects exists only in the video edited for broadcast. This is not only a reporter job problem, This is how new human beings are related to the world these days, and the movie sarcastically twisting it. Everything is only beautiful to be seen on the broadcast, SNS. However, the reality is inhuman emptiness that leaves only footprints. There is no human relationship, no conversation, no effort for mutual understanding. The protagonist travels all over the place, but refuses to relate to humans everywhere. Only in a place there are no human beings, She can rest in peace. and there she drowned in her own imagination and her own happiness. We don't know even if a boyfriend is a real person because he is only heard over the phone. All the relationships surrounding her is a world of lies, disguise, pretense, and void. In the last scene, her song resonates on the hill without any audience. The way new humans relate to the world is as empty and sad as a song sung in a field without an audience.

A Japanese woman in Uzbekistan

[danybur · 8/10 · 15 January 2021]

Yoko, a young Japanese reporter (Atsuko Maeda, actress and pop singer) and her team travel to Uzbekistan for a Japanese TV travel program.

Kishoyi Kurosawa's film is quite unclassifiable. It's a drama, but with moments of comedy, some of them disturbing, with Yoko going through various awkward and sometimes unusual situations. Up to the End ... is an unpredictable film that surprises at all times with the vicissitudes of the protagonist of it, with the consequent and necessary changes of registry of her. Despite this, the film retains its coherence from beginning to end, in part because of the figure of her protagonist, fragile but curious and determined.

Certain cultural clashes, the differences of opinion with her team, her iron and tenacious professionalism, the postponed vocations and Yoko's dreams add to an almost documentary record of the exotic locations through which they pass that never falls into the picturesqueness.

Schmatz

[charleski2000 · 4/10 · 4 July 2020]

Yes, there's no denying it, the Japanese are the modern masters of schmaltz, and this film is a perfect example. Yoko is a 'reporter' for a low-rent Japanese travel show whose talent consists of reeling off inane comments to camera in a squeaky, excitable voice, often after having been subjected to low-grade torture by her uninspired director. The film's ostensible narrative thrust concerns Yoko's artistic awakening as she finally manages to connect with her true emotions. Yes, it's that bad, and the final payoff is supremely unconvincing.

The film's one redeeming quality comes from a couple of subtexts concerning Japanese xenophobia and the gross inanity of the pop-culture ethos. Yoko blithely wanders into a restricted area and is so scared of the locals that she runs from the police when they approach her to check what she had been filming. The director is obsessed with filming a rare fish, but merrily waltzes right past the glories of Samarkand's Registan Square. But these aren't enough to redeem the film as a whole.

a better world?

[cdcrb · 5/10 · 21 March 2021]

A japanese film crew in uzbekistan. on the cheap. making a travelogue. the "star" of the show, is a young japanese woman, with a lot of moxie. for reasons i could not comprehend, she keeps wandering off by herself in a totally unfamiliar country, with no language skills or smarts. anyway this seems to be a message movie. we're all the same, all we need is dialog between us to make a better world. or something like that. it didn't move me.