Much like my fellow bloggers, I was given the privilege not too long ago of reviewing Dave Boyle’s to be released movie, Big Dreams Little Tokyo. Much unlike my fellow bloggers, this review is late for a variety of reasons, all too embarrassing to mention here.

I digress. To say that BDLT is a comedy would be like saying that Hayao Miyazaki makes Japanese cartoons, or that Akira Toriyama draws Japanese comics. Nevermind how it’s true, the deliberate phrasing in conventional terms make for something that’s a little awkward on the ears (as opposed to “makes anime”, or “draws manga”).

Even if you have to grudgingly admit that BDLT has comedic trappings, of course, there’s always the weighty subject material it deals with which makes the journey through through issues of displacement and cultural identity a heartfelt, if understated, experience.

from left to right: Rachel Morihiro as Mai, Dave Boyle as Boyd, Jayson Watabe as Jerome, and Drew Knight as Andy

I’m sure you know of slang used to classify those of a certain race who try to behave like another; twinkies, wiggers, bananas, oreos, coconuts, and so on. The list is endless, derogatory, and not without an element of truth to it. Likewise, BDLT too chooses to focus on something we know as the wapanese, that eccentric breed of person who, while not related to your everyday otaku, can be considered a subset of it.

And who hasn’t, at some point or another, seen Japan through a highly idealized, simplified lens and wished, even for a fleeting moment, that they could have been born, or at least lived there? I know I have. Time has taught me better, though, and for those of you who still think that assimilating into a homogeneous, hostile to foreigners culture is easy, BDLT’s a right step on the path back to reality.

Boyle, in his debut feature film, tells a story of a similarly-named protagonist called Boyd to life with irreverence and simplicity. Boyd is the CEO of Tiger Industries, an aspiring patchwork company which does everything from language classes to takeout to translation work. Having a B.A. in Japanese, he constantly hawks a book he’s written, called The Power of Words, to unsuspecting bystanders, those who look vaguely Japanese, and even in bookstores where his book is sold, much to the chagrin of this one bookstore owner.

The introduction, while brief, is by no means forgettable and sets the tone for the rest of the movie — Boyd, dressed to the nines, converses with a group of Japanese businessmen, who proceed to test him on his Japanese knowledge by getting him to translate English phrases.

The atmosphere is one of awkwardness and irony as Boyd, instead of failing as the businessmen expect him to do, succeeds again and again. It’s funny, yet unsettling in a wordless way as you realise that while Boyd’s mannerisms and speech are Japanese in every sense of the word, he isn’t truly regarded as one of them for all his efforts.

Then there’s Jerome, who calls himself “Sakebono” in a bid to appear more Japanese than his namesake. A wannabe sumo wrestler, Jerome’s been rejected time and again by the sumo academy he’s applied to, and his only crime? Not being fat enough. He isn’t even Japanese enough, as he laments to his friend Andy at a sushi bar — “When I was a kid, I was made fun of for being Japanese. Now I’m around Japanese people all the time, I’m not Japanese enough for them.”

I’ve been through that. Even as a 3rd, maybe 4th generation immigrant born and bred in multi-racial Malaysia, the sense of strongly holding onto your roots, and racial identification, still stays strong after 50 years of independence in my country. No thanks to a series of racialist laws benefiting the Malay-Muslim majority, the immigrant Chinese and Indian races still feel out of place in a country that barely seems to welcome them, and as a result people here are more strongly divided along racial lines than the norm.

What this all means is that I was brought up with English as my first language rather than Chinese, due to a misguided desire on my father’s end for me to be proficient in the language.As a result of which I grew up holding onto my identity as a Malaysian-Chinese precariously — not being able to speak Mandarin or any of the dialects meant a sense of general disapproval from my relatives, and to some lesser degree my cousins, who were more traditional in that sense.

Later on in life I rudely awoke to reality, and found that acquaintances, schoolmates, and strangers alike had the tendency to tell me, tactlessly, that I “wasn’t Chinese enough” — 10, 15 odd years of living an English language existence had all but blinded me to the cultural boundaries that were fiercely held on to in this place, and while I knew I was different, I had no idea how difficult it was to relate to those brought up in a different background, having previously interacted with those of a similar upbringing.

BDLT is surprisingly astute in that sense. The dual narrative of Jerome and Boyd allow for keen observations on both sides of the fence, whether through Boyd’s desire to co-exist with a culture that regards him with indifference and/or novelty, or through Jerome’s acute sense of alienation from his fellow Japanese. It brings up many issues, like that of race, or culture, or, as the harassed Murakami (in a scene-stealing performance by James Kyson Lee) says at one point to Boyd, “You are not Japanese! No matter how many times you bow when you speak, you never will be Japanese!”

Although I’ve personally never went to such lengths, the words struck a chord with me. How couldn’t it, considering I watch anime, listen to Japanese music, and read manga on a regular basis? Boyd’s predicament is quintessentially 21st century in its outlook, for never before have we been able to reach out to other cultures and embrace their heritage so easily as we have today. It isn’t so much about what’s being embraced here as it is the need of, or a sense of belonging to something you can identify with, and who is society to judge?

Boyle makes use of irony to great effect. For all of Boyd’s efforts to sell a book about the power of words, he finally realises in the end that what’s needed isn’t so much communication as it is kindred understanding. Jerome, in his bid to be more Japanese by trying for the sumo academy, overeats himself into a health problem. The humour here is subtle; it doesn’t press you to find it amusing, but when you do you’ll find yourself laughing not at, but with them.

I’d recommend BDLT wholeheartedly to anyone who’s ever experienced similar feelings of alienation. Even if you haven’t, I’m sure you’ll be able, as an otaku, to be able to see yourself at one point or another — the love for the culture, language, and people is something we share with Boyd, even if it isn’t to such an extreme degree.

The problems I had with BDLT were technical in nature, and probably related to the acoustics of the screener DVD more than anything else. While I took it for granted, having basic conversational skills, there were times where what was being said on-screen couldn’t be inferred from mere context alone. Ditto the occasional accented line in English, where I had to replay the same scene a few times just to get what was being said despite the volume being turned up.

Big Dreams Little Tokyo was an enjoyable experience all in all, and while it isn’t as fast-paced or as slapstick as your average Hollywood film, it’s definitely meatier, with more things to chew on than you’d have thought possible in slightly over one and a half hours. Do try and catch it when it comes out in the theatres (more details can be found at the main site here), or at least rent the DVD, if only to watch it with a couple of your otaku friends or your college’s anime club, for there’s never been a more apt depiction since Genshiken.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 11th, 2007 at 11:59 pm and is filed under Movie, Review. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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