“Mono No Aware”, Never Let me Go, and Japanese themes of transience.

Never Let Me Go is ballsy. Really, really ballsy. It doesn’t have rape, extreme violence, or politically controversial topics. There isn’t nudity or cursing. It is a quiet movie, but manages to be one of the ballsiest mainstream films I’ve seen in a long time. It is about human beings that are harvested for their organs, but that isn’t why its daring. That sounds like it could be a Matrix-type, sci-fi film, but instead, the movie is about loss and the pain of the past. This movie is emotionally ballsy. It dares to make an audience care deeply for its characters, follow the characters for a portion of their lives, and then allows the audience no glimpse of hope for the characters’ fate.

I swear to god I felt the inklings of a Japanese film in this movie and lo-and-behold I find that the source material was written by the famous author Kazuo Ishgiruo. I’ve never read anything by him, but know the name. He’s one of those authors that you’re always like: “Ugh, I’ll read a book by him this summer.” And never do. Never Let Me Go reminded me of a term from my Japanese cinema class in college called “Mono no Aware”. It is hard to describe what that means, so here is the Google definition I found: “used to describe the awareness of mujo or the transience of things and a bittersweet sadness at their passing…” Think of the Japanese’s symbolic take on cherry blossoms, for example.

Take a look through some of the greatest Japanese films of all time and you’ll feel an almost undefinable sensation of loss, bittersweetness, and a sensitivity toward the impermanent. I’ve read that the Japanese culture is seemingly obsessed with death, but not in macabre way, but in a way that is sensitive towards the beauteous of the impermanent. Confused? Me too. Google the director Ozu and then go to the library and watch his movies. Things should make sense. Or even better, check out Grave of the Fireflies.

Anyway, where was I? Never Let Me Go…right. The plot lacks an explanation on why the clones, whose organs are to be taken from them, don’t hit the ground running. As in, escape. The story does indicate, loosely, that the clones long to help the sick, or feel dutifully that they have to donate their organs. Regardless, I think at least a conversation about escape is in order.

The movie could have been an Orwellian, Philip K. Dick-type, thriller. But instead, it seems to be indifferent to its science-fiction roots, only using the context to say something profound about human beings. This movie might be the most melancholy movie released this year. The best scene is one where the three main characters meet in the last year of their lives and visit a beach. A boat has washed ashore; trapped inland. The ocean representing the future, possibility, and hope, while the stranded boat is their inability to pass into that future or achieve any other life they wanted. At any moment, the story could have turned into The Island, or another film of the sorts, and probably would make more money, but luckily it stays true to its Japanese roots.

Never Let Me Go ends with a small misstep, but many will feel that the obligatory last scene needs to be there. I don’t, but maybe in an already ambiguous movie, an ambiguous ending would have been hard for many viewers to swallow. The film ends with the main character Kathy (Carey Mulligan) staring off into a meadow, clarifying in a voice-over what the movie is about thematically. I don’t know if that was necessary. The ending hits the perfect note, but maybe too many times. I would have rather her stare off into the same meadow in silence, considering what her life was about, I’m sure we would have done the same.

By: Collin Gilbert