I recently saw an advance screening of Tatsuya Mori's new documentary film "Fake," which is already being talked about in some circles.
The main figures in the documentary are Mamoru Samuragochi and his wife. Some people may struggle to recall Samuragochi. Though he had a hearing disability, he released many musical works -- and was even lauded in a television special as a "modern Beethoven."
A different composer later came forward, however, and announced that he had been the true author of Samuragochi's works over a period of 18 years. Regarding Samuragochi's disability, the other composer said that Samuragochi was able to hold conversations with him and did not seem to be disabled -- a revelation that caused a big stir.
For his documentary, Mori filmed the unadorned lives of Samuragochi -- who has barely appeared in public since holding an initial news conference -- and his wife at their home.
There were a number of scenes in the film that left strong impressions on me. In particular, I noticed the behavior of Samuragochi's wife, who was calm and collected compared to her relatively emotional husband. When Samuragochi was exhausted from the media's ongoing pursuit, she did not ask him questions. Rather, she would always smartly prepare meals or serve cakes to visiting journalists.
To the couple who stuck together against the cold wind blowing in from the world, the director asked, "Do you love each other?"
I would like my readers to see the documentary themselves to hear the answer, but I will say that the wife took quite some time before giving her answer.
So, did the wife not feel anything through all of this? In fact, she did. The camera catches her as she quietly shows her emotion. Seeing this, I couldn't help but think, "Ah, she must have many things on her mind."
Lately, there is a social mood wherein people who speak up and say something -- or who talk the loudest -- end up being winners. In other words, those who put forth their thoughts clearly and with emotion tend to have their opinions accepted by others.
There are, however, people who feel and think about all kinds of things even though they don't talk much. And when an emergency arises, it can in fact be the "silent person" who turns out to be the most reliable.
The truth isn't only in what is said, but is sometimes also on the side of people like Samuragochi's wife, who lived her life quietly.
And amidst this dramatic period for Samuragochi and his wife, I found the fact that there was someone who lived through it all without changing herself to represent some kind of a silver lining.
Who decides what a person is, what a husband and wife are, and what truth and lies are?
Once it is released, I would like many people to see and think about this heart-lifting documentary film. (By Rika Kayama, psychiatrist)