I Was a Simple Man

source: I Was a Simple Man

Masao is an elderly Japanese-American dying of cancer and living alone in a shack in rural Oahu. He still keeps a small Shinto shrine to his long dead wife, Grace in his home, with her ashes buried under a giant tree nearby. The movie slowly unwinds the story of Masao's difficult life. We are introduced to his three children, first an adult son who is with him at the clinic. This son seems to be struggling, possibly with mental disease, as he keeps seeing the ghosts of his dead mother and other ancestors. Later that night, Masao tries to call his other son, perhaps to tell him about his cancer diagnosis. This son had long ago moved away to the mainland US, somewhere on the East Coast probably, and had broken off contact with Masao. The son's irritated reply "Do you know what time it is? There's a six hour time difference!" before hanging up on him, pre-empts anything Masao might have wanted to say to him. Finally we meet Masao's daughter's family. She is married, apparently to a Caucasian guy. She appears to have one son and one daughter, the daughter being married to an Asian man, and has young children of her own. The story briefly introduces Masao's part-Caucasian grandson, before seguing to a series of flashbacks that recount the rest of Masao's life story. At some point before America' entry into WWII, the young Masao has fallen in love with Grace, who is Chinese, and so is rejected by Masao's rigid Olde Countrie Japanese parents, who want only to return to Japan. Masao runs away from home to be with Grace, and so is ostracized by his Japanese parents and community. His parents then return to Japan without him. The war begins, Japan's cities are firebombed, and Masao's parents and family die in the firebombings. In anger and/or despair Msao turns away from his wife and family and begins a ruinous life of drinking and carousing with his buddies. Grace slowly dies of something that is not otherwise detailed in the movie. After her death, Masao sends his young children to live with their aunt (Grace's sister), while at the same time stealing Grace's ashes from her house one night and burying them at the base of the giant tree near his rural shack, to fulfill a promise he had made to Grace. There the story ends, with the ghost of Grace narrating the last parts of Masao's story in these flashbacks, as Maso dies in his home. It's a slow and sad but thoughtful story, not the usual dramatic Romeo and Juliet story of love clashing against families and cultural values, but far grittier and closer to the truth of how these cultural conflicts often play out. The interesting parts of this movie come from the reveals of Masao's past, which appear to be haunted by ghosts now. The story is also not really about Olde Hawaii so much as it is a story of the Japanese and Chinese peoples on the island in the pre and post WWII era. Most of these people had been imported into Oahu as cheap labor for the pineapple and sugar cane fields that were the major industries there at the time. It's all different now of course, and this movie reminds us of that part of Olde Hawaii.

Film is first and foremost a story-telling medium. Film is at its best when it has straight forward story, strong characters, a linear plot that is easy to follow, and a theme you don't have to search for. If this had any of these, it went over my head. When people go into an art gallery, there are those who look at the art on the walls and ponder, and (with honest sincerity, or the need to show pretentious artistic knowledge) say, "Hmmm, very deep. It truly moves me." Then there are those who look at it, with head askew, and say "Huh?" I am the latter. I don't know, maybe I am just a landscape and flowers kind of guy. I could never pretend that I understood and liked wine, either. I am more of a coffee guy, with just a little cream and sugar to take the bitter out. This film seemed slow, drawn out, plodding, and all over the place with unintroduced characters, a story that roamed, and a theme that never penetrated for me. The beautiful cinematography simply could not make for for what it lacked. I had to strain to hear what little dialog there was, I had to strain to see through the persistent darkness, and I had to strain just to understand what it was about. Maybe it was a cultural thing, but when we strive today for a cross-cultural awareness, I felt left behind. Film as art for art sake has never interested me. I just wondered what the point was, and that question was never answered...for me.

"I Was a Simple Man" is obviously a very personal project for the director. So personal that it doesn't translate to a comprehensible experience for the viewers. The characters are poorly explained, and the pace is super slow. It may be an artistic film, but it's not for me.

About 30 minutes into this film, there is a quick, almost fleeting shot of a rotten fruit falling from a tree at nighttime, paired with a shot of the fragile main character as he lies on his deathbed. A little while earlier, we see him attentively picking fresh fruit from the same tree, the sun blazing overhead. It might just be a small visual detail, but this contrast stood out most to me amid all the frames director Christopher Makoto Yogi interweaves in this film. I Was a Simple Man is an almost mystical story of an elderly man, Masao, nearing the end of his life. Over the course of the movie, we explore the circumstances that shaped him into the solitary man he eventually becomes through revisiting shattering experiences, and happy memories-all while life is slowly slipping out of his worn out body. Yogi gives these experiences time and space to unfold, never once rushing the reflective nature of the film; instead, he lets the film slowly lure us in by merging different timelines and points of view. This is a movie that doesn't need many words to "talk", it's a movie that thoughtfully conveys its message through pictures, like fruit falling from a tree. The first two acts are filled with color and stunning Hawaiian scenery, accompanied by the tranquil sound of waves breaking softly on the shore. As the film goes on, however, some of its initial heart and care unfortunately get lost along the way, in my view. Although the initial premise-centered around an experience we will all inevitably go through-feels universal, the movie isn't fully able to take us on the same journey as its protagonist, subsequently reducing the film's emotional impact to a minimum, despite its visibly heartfelt direction and performances. Since most of the story is told through flashbacks, there is almost no character development otherwise crucial to the emotional tone of a dramatic film like this one. As a result, the overall tone and atmosphere of I Was a Simple Man feels indecisive; it's as if the film and its message got lost somewhere in the cuts between present and past, reality and fantasy. Both the flashbacks and the present timeline work well on their own, with solid cinematography and strong narratives; put together, however, they feel rather dissonant than harmonious-like melodies each beautiful by themselves, but played together, they become a discordant sea of notes without a clear phrase or harmony. A contemplative movie exploring the end of a man's time spent on earth, I Was a Simple Man seeks to convey the feeling of being in the presence of someone who is passing away-Yogi's main inspiration behind this film, as he mentioned during the Q&A following the screening. While this movie succeeds at painting a pensive portrait of a man's life, it unfortunately doesn't succeed as much at interweaving the story of his life with the passing of his life. Nonetheless, in the end, I Was a Simple Man is perhaps a mindful reminder that our lives are to be lived, and lived fully, before we depart this planet.

I Was a Simple Man is a beautiful, haunting, and rewarding film. I recently saw the film's premiere at Sundance (virtually) where both of the virtual screenings sold out, which is an indicator of the film's intrigue. In I Was a Simple Man, director Christopher Makoto Yogi tells the story of a dying man named Masao on the North Shore of Oahu. We realize after some interactions with family that Masao is in no way a simple man and has quite a complicated past. He is a man who fell deeply in love with his wife, but after her death decades ago he chose to have very little involvement with his children, which leaves him mostly isolated on his deathbed. I connected with this storyline deeply, particularly during this pandemic when many of us are confronting death to an extent that we never have before, and also feel incredibly isolated at the same time. Days later the film has me grappling mentally with deaths in my own family and the complex, sometimes flawed personal relationships that greatly complicate our emotions when death comes around. The story touches on a lot of interesting topics, some that might be familiar to those who have seen Yogi's previous work. The characters and script are nostalgic for an old Hawaii, one not littered with high rise hotels and apartment buildings, and one that is more green and untouched. Hawaiian nature is deeply linked to the characters and is a focal point visually, aurally, and symbolically. The complicated issue of Hawaiian statehood also creates a layered backdrop to the story that unfolds in the past. The performances by the actors and cultivated by Yogi are impressive. Constance Wu is probably the draw here, but this is not your typical Wu project. In fact, I was most appreciative of the subtle acting of relative newcomer Steve Iwamoto in the lead role, whose tanned and weathered face expressed so much. I was also impressed by Tim Chiou who played "Adult Masao" during some of the most difficult times for his character. Regarding the film's style, I Was a Simple Man would be categorized in the genre of Slow Cinema and is rewarding to those with some patience. Perhaps this pacing will not be for everyone, but I found that it created a meditative and thoughtful tone that felt intentionally and deeply in tune with the Hawaiian environment where "time moves differently," which is also a reference to the film's fluid chronology. Though some of the boldest choices come later in the film, most of which I'll refrain from spoiling, I found the film to be quite dynamic as it builds towards its conclusion. The film's cinematography is quite gorgeous, showcasing a less familiar side of Hawaii, and featuring frames reminiscent of Ozu. The sound design is incredible, providing the Hawaiian environment life and vibrancy through powerful crescendos and hard cuts. When combined with the haunting score, I found myself quite moved or even rattled emotionally as the drama unfolded. Overall the film is quite the unique and profound sensory experience. Ultimately, I Was a Simple Man was the perfect antidote to so much binging of generic Netflix series that I think we all are having to resort to these days. I was deeply affected by the film and I'm still thinking about it days later. If you're looking to watch something refreshing, different, and thoughtful, then I would highly recommend checking out I Was a Simple Man. I think it will go down as one of my favorites of the year.

Trailer—I Was a Simple Man

I Was a Simple Man