What waits for us once we die? What happens to us, and what happens to the people we leave behind?
Fujii Michihito (director of the acclaimed The Journalist and, more recently, The Last 10 Years) has come up with a beautiful, heartfelt answer to those questions with Netflix’s The Parades, released this past February. The Parades tells the story of Minako (Nagasawa Masami), a single mother and journalist who dies in a tsunami and finds herself stuck in a realm in between our “living world” and the “afterlife” as she looks for her missing son.
The film, which spans a little over two hours, follows a quiet and calm rhythm as if the plot itself is the parade and we’re being taken by the hand through the characters’ journeys. Even though Minako is the leading lady, this is very much an ensemble film, in which a group of spirits help each other to come to terms with their unfinished business before moving on.
This review (or shall we say, musing?) is spoiler-free. I hope you enjoy it! You can also pin our summary at the bottom!
What Makes The Parades Different and How Cinematography Complements the Script
This might sound like your everyday, run-of-the-mill ghost story, but Fujii has managed to create a bittersweet universe that is inhabited by both the living and the dead, the joy and the pain, caught in a slow dance that presents life as a forgiving, hopeful journey.
The plot doesn’t really follow a traditional arc. Instead, it gives much more space to the human connection between the main characters. It’s the synergy between themselves and the dynamics with their loved ones that carry the story; their goals take the back seat. The script balances dialogue and visual information well: even though much is told, even more is shown. Trying to find all the little details that give depth to these people makes for an interesting first viewing or a curious second one, if you like to pay attention to one thing at a time.
The Highlight of The Parades: Imamura’s Cinematography
Imamura Keisuke’s cinematography is absolutely stunning and very effective. Visually, Minako and Co.’s tale takes shades of orange and blue, uses grain to emulate old film, and includes some quite poignant POV shots.
The film starts with long and medium shots that convey the sadness, loss, and loneliness of the destruction caused by the waves of the tsunami and the cold of the shelters. You see Minako’s back a lot of the time as she looks for her son, desperately and destitutely. You see Akira’s back as he writes, mirroring his own father’s, as they both use words to find peace. You see Michael’s back as he watches the film that he never managed to complete. These contrast with all the backs of the spirits as they join their parade and walk together, also searching for what they’ve lost.
Our own parade follows, and we walk past these characters as they shed light on their pasts, overcome their fears, find what they are looking for, and act on their regrets. Once we reach their final chapter together, we see our ensemble in close-ups, a type of shot that is used sparingly throughout the two hours. They are emotionally heavy and make us feel like, finally, we’ve been allowed in to become part of their family.
A Quick Note On Noda’s Beautiful Score
The score, in unmistakable Yojiro Noda style, punctuates their story without ever becoming too overwhelming. It isn’t completely sad nor incredibly happy, but its warmth embraces us as we watch these characters find their peace.
An Ensemble Film: Who Are Minako and Co.?
Characterisation is done well, and the cast delivers performances with respect and gentleness. The ensemble is composed of captivating players who have at least one object that works as a symbol of their life and persona.
Michael (the amazing Lily Franky), a filmmaker who regrets leaving his first love behind, has the little jar of star sand as a token of his life. Franky, an incredible actor in whatever he decides to do, delivers a marvellous performance full of heart. Michael stutters and is full of ticks and mannerisms. His behaviour is old-fashioned, to the point that the younger female characters call him out on it, but he is wonderfully kind and caring. He’s just hypnotising. Franky breathes life into this adorable and crazy grandpa figure that the entire group and we, as an extension, want to support.
Akira (Sakaguchi Kentaro) becomes, in this in-between realm, the writer that he never managed to become in life. His existence is linked to his father’s, a person he only really got to know after death, through books and papers that record his life among the living and the dead. Sakaguchi, whose talents are recognised across the board โ from romance to action โ quietly portrays a character who is a generous observer. Akira is us, as the audience, only he can see the people around him beyond their current faces and makes them feel important, encouraging them to share their tales.
Yokohama Ryusei plays the charming Shori, a former yakuza who couldn’t bring himself to face his wife after his death and whose emblem is his fancy motorbike. Shori carries the honour and respect towards his family, visiting them on his father’s birthday and on his own death anniversary.
Kaori (Terajima Shinobu), the mother figure of this band of misfits, makes sure that everyone is happy and well-fed. Her symbol is her cooking, which connects her new family to her old one. A cheerful and enchanting performance by Terajima.
At first, you might think that the banker Tanaka (played with poise by Tanaka Tetsushi) is the forgotten character of this web of weirdos. Soon enough, however, you understand that he isn’t like the rest of them, and he has a different role in this puzzle.
The most interesting character might very well be Mori Nana’s Nana, a high schooler who leads to a nice and tidy twist of sorts at the end. She’s a symbol herself, connecting the dead to the living. It was nice to see Mori play a completely different character from her wonderfully sweet Kiyo in last year’s perfect The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House.
The Role of Women in The Parades
Led by the charismatic Nagasawa, female roles shine here: Minako determinedly being both a mother and a journalist, Nana being the bridge between all characters and bringing their stories to light, and Kaori being the one who brings balance to the group. Not just women but mothers receive a lot of attention from this script too. Minako’s and Kaori’s unconditional love for their children is what, ultimately, keeps them from moving on. Their care, concern, and regrets define many of their actions and create a poignant aura to this story of arrivals and departures.
Nagasawa Masami plays Minako with nuance and resolve, portraying her as a strong, determined, and caring protagonist who allows herself to fully experience her moments of confusion, fear, and despair. Minako is a woman who, despite societal constraints, works hard to achieve the career she wants, overcomes a relationship that could’ve ruined her life, and shoulders full responsibility for her son. Despite spinning all these plates, Minako still feels guilty for not being the mother she should’ve been or the person she was expected to be.
Minako represents millions of women and mothers out there with respect and compassion. She’s not only looking for her son. She’s looking for a reason to forgive herself and to accept herself for who she is. Her journey towards her son ignites the film’s core themes, and she, slowly, becomes the leader of this parade, not only sharing her own life with us but also gently guiding us towards the other characters.
Nagasawa allows Minako to breathe and grow throughout the film, all the while giving space to her supporting cast to shine and tell their own tales. She’s the ideal protagonist in a script that is all about the collective without losing sight of the importance and charm of the individual.
A Film About a Film: Why Should You Watch The Parades?
The Parades not only deals with life and death but also the emotional power of cinema. “Films even after you died?” Yes. Here, cinema continues to play a strong role in our psyche even after we die, connecting “past and present” and bringing closure to our unresolved feelings. Much of The Parades is a film within a film and it does give our ensemble a goal in common, one that becomes stronger than their own personal objectives.
I don’t know what awaits us after death, but Fujii Michihito succeeded in delivering a heartwarming tale that makes us wonder about our own choices and misgivings. I can only imagine that this movie carries even more weight to a Japanese audience, as the pain and trauma of the 2011 Tohoku tsunami are still very much part of the social fabric. Still, through this wonderful cast and these beautiful shots, anyone with half a heart feels the pain of the ones who are gone and the ones left behind, but most importantly, we feel the cathartic effect of healing as we march alongside Minako and Co.
If you want a film with a heavy, quick-paced plot, The Parades isn’t going to fulfil that wish. But, if you’re looking for a serene contemplation on life, death, and human connection, it fits the bill perfectly.
You can watch The Parades on:
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Have you watched The Parades yet? Share in the comments what you thought about it. Yesterday, we had another J-film coming out on Netflix: Drawing Closer. This weekend, I might grab a tissue box and give it a shot. If you need more info about it, we talked about it in our June Release Calendar!
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