We’ve all seen movies that advertise themselves as “based on a true story.” But what happens when someone actually believes that claim? Kumiko, a friendless, unmarried office worker in Tokyo, has convinced herself that the Coen Brothers film Fargo, wherein a criminal buries a suitcase full of money in the North Dakota snow, is real. So much so that she steals her boss’s credit card, abandons her apartment and pet rabbit, and journeys to the US to find the “treasure.” She barely speaks English, and has no real plan of how to find the fictional loot. But she’s determined, and won’t let anything, be it the cold, or the fact that the treasure isn’t real, stop her. What will happen? Watch the movie to find out.
Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter is a perfect encapsulation of the phrase “hauntingly beautiful.” The cinematography is gorgeous, capturing both the elegant desolation of the American Mid-West, and the sleek, ultra modern extravagance of Tokyo. The soundtrack, written and performed by the Octopus Project, is as eerie and seductive as a Siren’s lullaby. The inhumanly talented Rinko Kikuchi manages to be both beautiful and ugly, sympathetic and pathetic, insane and grounded all at once. And the story, which deals with themes of loneliness, isolation, escapism, and societal pressure on women, is beyond heartbreaking. The ending, which I won’t spoil, literally made me groan with devastation. And the final phone call between Kumiko and her mother, wherein the latter disowns her, and the former barely manages to keep herself from crying, made me tear up. This is, without a doubt, one of the best films of the 21st century. I would honestly place it on my top ten list of favorite movies of all time. And I’m so frustrated that, even after this flick, and her Oscar-nominated performance in Babel, Ms. Kikuchi isn’t a bigger name here in the West.
Something that’s very interesting about this film is how it manages to make you care about someone who is, in many ways, pathetic, and kind of unlikable. Yes, you understand Kumiko’s frustration. Her boss is mean. Her mother is nagging. Her job is boring and meaningless. But something that this film does very well is portray how almost all the problems in her life are of her own making. She could have friends. In fact, we see an old classmate try to reconnect, only for Kumiko to run out on her. We see her stealing an Atlas of North America from the library, when she could just make a copy, or download one off line. The security guard even points this out to her. And there are several instances throughout the story, like when she decides to get off a bus that’s momentarily stalled, or when she runs away from a cab, instead of just paying for it, where she needlessly puts herself in danger by exposing herself to the elements. This makes her an utterly fascinating character, and the film as a whole infinitely more watchable.
Now as much as I love this film, I can see why some people might be put off by it. Like the director, David Zellner’s, other movies, the flick is methodically paced and has an odd sense of humor. There are several sequences that unfold in utter silence, wherein we’ll see characters attempt to achieve a particular task, feed a rabbit, get someone to take down a phone number, try not to spill their mail, that are meant to elicit a laugh, given how odd they look. They did make me chuckle, but, then again, humor is subjective. I can totally see these sequences coming off as just plain weird to certain people. And the fact that this movie is loosely based on the real life death of Takako Konishi, a Japanese woman who was found in the snow near Fargo, might unsettle some viewers. Still, this flick’s themes, its music, its cinematography and the absolutely amazing work of Rinko Kikuchi more than make it worth a watch. It’s one of my favorite films of all time. And I genuinely think you all should see it.
liusviews 