Two university students meet and form an unlikely friendship, that throws up the possibility of an even more unlikely romance.
Heavenly Forest is a perfect example of how the TV aesthetic is strangling Japanese cinema. All the acting is over-acting, with Miyazaki signified as 'cute' by virtue of the fact that she bobs her head ever so slightly after she talks, chews her bottom lip, and does not know what a hairbrush is for. Tamaki raises his eyebrows in shock and surprise, and lowers them when mystified or concerned. All these young people look wonderful, and are suitably backlit and rendered in soft focus. Tamaki gets in with the 'in' crowd who all seem to smile, camp, swim and have fun without any real world concerns or connections. Tamaki's burden is a rash on his side, for which the only medicine he can get carries an anti-social stench. Given that eczema in the form of 'atopi' is practically an epidemic in Japan and that many medical treatments exist, this particular representation is borderline insulting to the sufferers. Tamaki is never put right regarding his self-stigmatization. Miyazaki also suffers a mystery ailment that stunts her growth and eventually proves fatal. Shockingly lazy scripting that just conjures up a medical condition rather than strive to inject some authenticity or societal resonance to the narrative. In short, pure fantasy and escapism. The lack of plausibility in medical terms is symptomatic of the whole narrative, that forces conflict from unlikely coincidence rather than character choice, and resonates to absolute no sense of modern-day Japan. The university they go to is a strangely antiseptic campus, and the friendships seem robotic and perfunctory, like two people on a date in a mouthwash commercial.
In the climactic scene, Miyazaki is revealed to have been beautiful all along and capable of mastering the use of a hairbrush, a 'revelation' that has emotional impact only if you have never seen Miyazaki outside this film, or have never, in fact, seen a film. As is often witnessed in J-cinema, a character is dragged half-way round the world on very little information, only to be told someone has died. Email and the internet, like extended family and real-life problems, do not exist in these fairytale narratives. Tamaki's reaction to the photos, to plod lead-footed and open-mouthed across a gallery floor, is unintentionally comical. Glycerin tears abound. The music is plinky-plonky nonsense that batters your ears non-stop.
Saccharine, twee, and annoyingly aiming for 'cute' on every single beat, this film could be the flag-bearer for the ugly mutation TV has inflicted on Japanese cinema. The one caveat is that Miyazaki actually looks like she could act given better direction and a script that carries some intelligence. Picture postcard photography of beautiful young people in a mindless, shallow story.
Heavenly Forest is a perfect example of how the TV aesthetic is strangling Japanese cinema. All the acting is over-acting, with Miyazaki signified as 'cute' by virtue of the fact that she bobs her head ever so slightly after she talks, chews her bottom lip, and does not know what a hairbrush is for. Tamaki raises his eyebrows in shock and surprise, and lowers them when mystified or concerned. All these young people look wonderful, and are suitably backlit and rendered in soft focus. Tamaki gets in with the 'in' crowd who all seem to smile, camp, swim and have fun without any real world concerns or connections. Tamaki's burden is a rash on his side, for which the only medicine he can get carries an anti-social stench. Given that eczema in the form of 'atopi' is practically an epidemic in Japan and that many medical treatments exist, this particular representation is borderline insulting to the sufferers. Tamaki is never put right regarding his self-stigmatization. Miyazaki also suffers a mystery ailment that stunts her growth and eventually proves fatal. Shockingly lazy scripting that just conjures up a medical condition rather than strive to inject some authenticity or societal resonance to the narrative. In short, pure fantasy and escapism. The lack of plausibility in medical terms is symptomatic of the whole narrative, that forces conflict from unlikely coincidence rather than character choice, and resonates to absolute no sense of modern-day Japan. The university they go to is a strangely antiseptic campus, and the friendships seem robotic and perfunctory, like two people on a date in a mouthwash commercial.
In the climactic scene, Miyazaki is revealed to have been beautiful all along and capable of mastering the use of a hairbrush, a 'revelation' that has emotional impact only if you have never seen Miyazaki outside this film, or have never, in fact, seen a film. As is often witnessed in J-cinema, a character is dragged half-way round the world on very little information, only to be told someone has died. Email and the internet, like extended family and real-life problems, do not exist in these fairytale narratives. Tamaki's reaction to the photos, to plod lead-footed and open-mouthed across a gallery floor, is unintentionally comical. Glycerin tears abound. The music is plinky-plonky nonsense that batters your ears non-stop.
Saccharine, twee, and annoyingly aiming for 'cute' on every single beat, this film could be the flag-bearer for the ugly mutation TV has inflicted on Japanese cinema. The one caveat is that Miyazaki actually looks like she could act given better direction and a script that carries some intelligence. Picture postcard photography of beautiful young people in a mindless, shallow story.