[Waiting for the Bear] Two People
I went to see the movie [Waiting for the Bear].
A strange summer where the "memories of the land and creation" experienced by the screenwriter Yayako and an 8-year-old boy named Takashi intertwine.
Yayako, a screenwriter, is staying at the old folk house of her grandfather Ryujiro, who died last year, and is writing a new script based on the diary he left behind.
In the midst of this, she ends up taking care of her nephew, a boy named Takashi, for the summer due to her sister's work circumstances.
The two have never interacted before, but Yayako tries to project her younger self onto Takashi and incorporate him into the script she is writing.
Unaware of her intentions, Takashi spends the summer experiencing encounters with a "black shadow" he saw in the middle of the night, a mysterious young man, and Yayako's former lover.
Eventually, at the end of the summer, Takashi touches upon Ryujiro's old memories deep inside a stone quarry.
And Yayako comes to face her own "sins" through her creative work.
I couldn't see it at last year's Tokyo International Film Festival because the schedule didn't work out, so I was looking forward to the release.
…Ha!
I was "waiting" for [Waiting for the Bear].
The following are my thoughts, or rather, things I thought about after finishing the movie.
Please note that this assumes you have already seen the work.
There were two scenes in the film where Yayako flatly stated, "I don't think I did anything wrong."
The first time was to Tomo, and the second time was regarding her grandfather's diary.
"Stating it flatly" is also a way of "cutting off one's thoughts by saying it."
By saying it out loud, she discards any other intentions, declaring to both others and herself as if her will were singular.
Inside Yayako, in addition to the thought that she doesn't think she did anything wrong, there must be a mix of feelings: not wanting to think she did anything wrong, a suspicion that perhaps she might have, and a sense of guilt that she might have done something wrong.
That is precisely why Yayako dares to conclude, "I don't think I did anything wrong." As if to shake off her hesitation.
(If she truly only had the feeling of "not thinking she did anything wrong," she wouldn't even need to say it like that. The fact that she says it preemptively, even when not clearly being accused, means that there is a receptor for the same values as the other person within Yayako. If she truly didn't think she did anything wrong, there should be a mismatch in the same scene where she would say, "I don't know what you are talking about.")
What emerges from this is the possibility that within Yayako, the relationship between her grandfather and Fujiyoshi, who appears in her grandfather's diary, is being superimposed onto the relationship between herself and Tomo.
The one who takes and the one who is taken from.
A sense of guilt that cannot be forgotten no matter how many years pass.
The relationships between Yayako and Tomo, and Ryu and Fujiyoshi, are parallel within Yayako.
Interestingly, these two-person relationships are perceived with completely different similarities from another perspective.
It is Takashi's perspective.
The Ryu that Takashi meets keeps his distance and leaves an impression as a mysterious existence.
I also notice that Yayako, to Takashi, exudes the exact same aura as Ryu.
Thinking about it that way, the night scene depicted in the final act is extremely impressive.
Ryu and Fujiyoshi run around the garden at night. Happily.
Fujiyoshi's act of sneaking in to steal persimmons is just a trigger, and it does not define the positions of the two.
It is not just one chasing the other; they chase each other around.
The two are in an equal relationship.
In complete contrast to the tense, grim, and asymmetrical appearance of the two depicted in Yayako's script.
(In Yayako's script, Fujiyoshi did not appear as a character. She probably couldn't bring herself to include him. Yayako could no longer depict the existence she had defined as the "one who was taken from.")
"Even though you're friends?"
I am reminded of Takashi's words at the time of Yayako and Tomo's separation.
The relationships between Yayako and Tomo, and Ryu and Fujiyoshi, are also parallel within Takashi.
However, the Yayako and Tomo, and Ryu and Fujiyoshi that Takashi witnessed are by no means a relationship of one who takes and one who is taken from.
Neither Yayako's perspective nor Takashi's perspective is necessarily correct.
If I dare say, perhaps they both contain both.
Just as one can have completely different feelings at the same time, completely different relationships can exist at the same time; or rather, the reality is that it cannot be defined as just one thing.
Waiting for the bear.
To an adult, a bear is a dangerous and terrifying existence.
In that fear, there is not only the realistic danger, but also, somewhere, the guilt of having taken away their habitat and the fear that they might now take it back.
Yayako is waiting for the bear.
The bear might signify retribution or judgment. Her own sins will be revealed. Yayako wants to know that.
Because only by knowing what she has taken can she know what she is seeking.
Yayako tried to trace her grandfather's sins. By superimposing herself onto her grandfather, she was taking a slightly roundabout way.
Takashi is also waiting for the bear.
It is not that he lacks awe. Rather, it is precisely because there is awe that he also feels the allure.
For a child harboring growth, the unknown is something to be traversed, danger is something to be controlled, and awe is something to be overcome.
The same expectations as Takashi still flow within Yayako as well.
Children and adults are not symmetrical beings.
An adult is a being who, while remaining their child self, has come to wear layers upon layers of cloaks—ways of carrying oneself—so as not to be worn down.
Yayako decided not to complete the script.
Perhaps she stopped waiting for the bear?
That is not the case. Perhaps Tomo, her grandfather, and Takashi were all beings who reflected one side of Yayako. Until now, Yayako had likely been 'using' parts of herself by projecting them onto others like Tomo, her grandfather, or Takashi.
Yayako no longer needs to detach herself.
She should now be able to touch upon her own way of being, even while using others as a medium.
She should now be able to utilize herself as she is in her creative work, without needing to use others.
It is not just about waiting for the bear.
Yayako's creative work will surely begin again from here.