Kamome Shokudō (Seagull Diner in English or Ruokala Lokki in Finnish where the drama was filmed) is the story of a Japanese proprietress who has opened her café in Helsinki, Finland to realize a dream of serving Japanese soul food like onigiri. The problem is she (Satomi kobayashi as Sachie) does not have anyone walking in through her door. The film is based on a novel written by author Yoko Mure who has a mostly female following in Japan and, given the story and the largely female cast, that is also where this film's viewership might be. Why do I tell you this? The story is the kind that is likely to spur either love or hate. Disclosure: I am much more in the former camp than in the latter.
Everything here is modest, the budget, the film making, the cast of characters, which corresponds to the shokudo's space, decor and menu. The goals may be modest, but when we first walk into the diner not only are those humble dreams unrealized and, moreover, there is little prospect for the better. There is openness and space everywhere - it is Finland after all and they have their forests – but either deliberately or due to time and money constraints not much of it is seen. The viewer does not see much of the area in which the diner is located or the owner's residence or the midnight sun about which we often hear. Even the marina and market shots are kept in perspective. It is a small budget in a wide open space, which is really the state of Sachie's little business. There are not that many surnames to speak of either. She is a cat out of water. She is over forty years old in real life, but passers-by are suspicious of her and comment that she is a "little thing." She has travelled from her homeland of Japan to Finland and loneliness. Yet, lucky for her and us, if there is security in numbers she is about to receive some. Just like the Japanese in real life one often wonders what the characters are really thinking or up to. Is the emotion on the sleeve (and absent) or is there something else going on? The cast ends up sharing a kinship, which they obviously need, except not one of them is readily admitting to it until later and even then barely.
Elsewhere, there are a few pieces of trivia and lingering questions including spoilers.
1- Sachie opened her doors a month ago only to see it go unused. It is so sad that after a month she only has one customer (kind of). 2- Why did Midori run away the first time the otaku spoke to her inside the café? 3- Were there mushrooms in the suitcase? Could you say Pulp Fiction? 4- Why was Masako given a cat by a stranger and why did she accept? 5- Masako speaks no Finnish and yet understood that the Finnish lady's husband had left her! 6- One hopes the café would have some Japanese sign or decoration, but there were none (see above)! 7 - It was sad that the heroine's cat had died when she was younger, no one had cared and she had felt so lonely. 8- Oddly for an independent film, the credits roll and out comes Inoue Yosui's rich voice. One night in a hotel room in Japan he was on TV talking about his favourite films. Seems he and I love the same Japanese films and director, one Yasujiro Ozu. He surprisingly closes the diner here.
This might pigeonhole the film and turn off many, so please do not take it as an implicit attempt at feeding you notions of a cliché, but Naoko Ogigami hits all the notes of an indie film here. This writer enjoyed the goings-on thanks to the recommendation from Osaka, Naoko Ogigami, Sachie and Japanese soul food.
Everything here is modest, the budget, the film making, the cast of characters, which corresponds to the shokudo's space, decor and menu. The goals may be modest, but when we first walk into the diner not only are those humble dreams unrealized and, moreover, there is little prospect for the better. There is openness and space everywhere - it is Finland after all and they have their forests – but either deliberately or due to time and money constraints not much of it is seen. The viewer does not see much of the area in which the diner is located or the owner's residence or the midnight sun about which we often hear. Even the marina and market shots are kept in perspective. It is a small budget in a wide open space, which is really the state of Sachie's little business. There are not that many surnames to speak of either. She is a cat out of water. She is over forty years old in real life, but passers-by are suspicious of her and comment that she is a "little thing." She has travelled from her homeland of Japan to Finland and loneliness. Yet, lucky for her and us, if there is security in numbers she is about to receive some. Just like the Japanese in real life one often wonders what the characters are really thinking or up to. Is the emotion on the sleeve (and absent) or is there something else going on? The cast ends up sharing a kinship, which they obviously need, except not one of them is readily admitting to it until later and even then barely.
Elsewhere, there are a few pieces of trivia and lingering questions including spoilers.
1- Sachie opened her doors a month ago only to see it go unused. It is so sad that after a month she only has one customer (kind of). 2- Why did Midori run away the first time the otaku spoke to her inside the café? 3- Were there mushrooms in the suitcase? Could you say Pulp Fiction? 4- Why was Masako given a cat by a stranger and why did she accept? 5- Masako speaks no Finnish and yet understood that the Finnish lady's husband had left her! 6- One hopes the café would have some Japanese sign or decoration, but there were none (see above)! 7 - It was sad that the heroine's cat had died when she was younger, no one had cared and she had felt so lonely. 8- Oddly for an independent film, the credits roll and out comes Inoue Yosui's rich voice. One night in a hotel room in Japan he was on TV talking about his favourite films. Seems he and I love the same Japanese films and director, one Yasujiro Ozu. He surprisingly closes the diner here.
This might pigeonhole the film and turn off many, so please do not take it as an implicit attempt at feeding you notions of a cliché, but Naoko Ogigami hits all the notes of an indie film here. This writer enjoyed the goings-on thanks to the recommendation from Osaka, Naoko Ogigami, Sachie and Japanese soul food.