The ever-present sound of military aircraft flying overhead isn’t something that Kamei (Naoto Shimajiri) ever hopes to get comfortable with in “The Color of the Sun,” living in Okinawa where U.S. Army installations remain even after control of the island reverted back to Japan after World War II. The noise pollution has been a longtime issue for the community that lives there, creating an inescapable din on a practical level but also serving as a constant reminder of a status it’s hard to break away from as well, being forever in limbo under the rule of one country while seemingly governed by another with no real stake in the population’s future. There are regular protests on the island by those who still have firsthand experience of the war, but as generations pass, an acceptance has set in amongst those who have no memory as if this is the only way to live.
The unique backdrop, as well as having frequent Apichatpong Weerasethakul cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom around, are what come to distinguish Xavier Tera’s promising debut feature, set during a pivotal moment in Kamei’s life as he nears the end of high school and can finally decide for himself where he’d like to be. There wouldn’t seem to be much incentive for him to stick around the island, having a strained relationship with his mother Sachiko (Erika Oda) ever since his father disappeared from their lives years ago, but as he spends a summer conscious of the decision he’ll soon have to make about staying or going, he also has to come to terms with whether his father was wise or cowardly for making the choice he did.
“The people you surround yourself with are a reflection of your future,” Kamei’s grandfather tells him, after the teen decides to devote at least some of his idle time helping to restore a local community center, and in this case, Kamei has to be concerned the future looks bleak. He isn’t sure what to make of Sayaka (Yuma Taira), an elusive classmate in all respects with whom it seems like he shares a romantic spark but has a habit of disappearing on him, and he already appears to have outgrown the group of friends he hangs around with in general though he’s too timid to cut ties. At first, he’s heartened to have someone new come around in Colin (West Mulholland), an American who doesn’t speak a lick of Japanese that takes the whole group of skaters by storm when he offers to bring them back to the base he grew up on – a part of the island they’ve never been allowed to explore for themselves – but that excitement starts to fade when all the brusque qualities that have long led the Japanese on the island to see Americans as colonizers start to appear in his behavior. (An uncomfortable evening watching porn together isn’t the inviting get-together that Colin thinks it is.)
The film unfolds at a languid pace appropriate for a sweaty summer, though it can occasionally suffer from a similar listlessness as its main character is experiencing when Shimajiri keeps his emotions close to the vest and long scenes where those feelings are settling in can push past a point of diminishing returns. However, Tera shows real ingenuity in the structure of the film where the memory of Kamei’s father is conveyed through a voice recorder he left behind of his scientific studies, creating the illusion of a dialogue that Kamei can feel compelled to respond to, yet there’s no real exchange, a quality that every relationship of his seems to have with people who actually are very much present in his life. If anyone was to disprove the notion that “no man is an island,” it starts to look like Kamei who resembles the contested territory he stands on when his allegiances are complicated and he finds it hard to show favor when his main instinct is to avoid worsening the situation, delaying his own maturation when he’s indecisive and unwilling to strongly advocate for himself. The ultimate result may not be much different than plenty of other coming-of-age stories, yet the depth is unusual when Kamei is truly a product of his environment, caught between two worlds where any change in the atmosphere inevitably feels seismic.
“Color of the Sun” will screen again at the Venice Film Festival on September 10th at 4:30 pm at the Astra 2 and 5 pm at Astra 1.