by Annette Basile
Worth: $13.50
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Kiyoko Kashiwagi, cats
Intro:
… a film that stays with you and, at its best, is a meditative experience ...
This observational documentary about street cats that live in a Japanese shrine is a mix of the beautiful and the banal.
In the tradition of Lars Von Trier’s Dogme rules, director Kazuhiro Sôda has decreed the “10 Commandments of Observational Filmmaking”, which essentially prescribe that there should be no research, no plan and no script – just shoot. Yet editing gives this observational work a clear structure, and a narrative thread about cats and community emerges.
After 27 years of living in New York, Sôda and his producer wife Kiyoko Kashiwagi returned to their native Japan and settled in the southern coastal town of Ushimado – a place that inspired two of Sôda’s previous docos, Oyster Factory and Inland Sea.
Once back on Japanese soil, he and, especially, Kashiwagi got involved with caring for the cats at the nearby Gokogu shrine. Along with other cat-loving volunteers, they feed and care for them, with a program to trap the cats, neuter, and then return them to their shrine home.
The cats are of every colour, and could hardly be called “feral”. They’re referred to as “street cats” here, but they’re so accustomed to the many people that pass through the Shinto shrine – gardeners, volunteers, worshippers, cat lovers and school kids – that they’re not so different from cats curled up by your hearth. Yet they live tougher lives.
Cats are a hugely divisive topic in Australia and a fairly divisive one here, where the mostly elderly community that live around the shrine take issue with the mess that the cats make. While the first section of this film hones in on the cats, the latter part focuses on the people that co-exist with them, and includes an extended community discussion on … well … cat shit.
But there are also unexpected moments, like when a senior woman shares a small but fascinating detail of life during wartime – Ushimado is only a couple of hours drive from Hiroshima, and many of the community were children during World War II.
And, of course, there are the gorgeous cats – the hefty ginger top cat being the star. But at one minute shy of two hours, The Cats of Gokogu Shrine’s length is indulgent. Despite its frequently gorgeous images of cats and cherry blossoms, it would have been a much stronger piece at 90 minutes.
An online interview with Sôda and Kashiwagi reveals some unexplored themes, such as Kashiwagi’s questioning of the neutering program (as it’s so harsh on the cats), and their discussion of “streets … getting more sanitised, under control”, where “nothing irregular is permitted anymore”. These are interesting points and would have bolstered this film. Getting these cats homed is also barely mentioned – after all, there are only around three dozen of them.
But there are still some truly wonderful moments here and Sôda, who shot the entire documentary himself (in keeping his fourth commandment), has a great eye for composition. Despite any flaws, it is a film that stays with you and, at its best, is a meditative experience – an antidote to a hectic city life.
