‘Satoko Always’ Review: A Trio of Women Find Their Inner Voice in Shuichi Okita’s Delightful Celebration of the Art of Writing

Three total strangers, with nothing in common except their name, are each inspired to take up writing in “Satoko Always,” writer-director Shuichi Okita’s surprising and inventive celebration of womanhood and the art of literary composition. Kasumi Arimura is the undeniable headliner, but the popular starlet is matched every step of the way by veteran actress Hikari Ishida and especially Kashun Himeno, who unleashes an eye-catching, potentially star-making turn as a junior high school student experiencing her first taste of true love.

Having already debuted domestically last month, the film makes its international debut in Busan’s competition section, where it is sure to draw praise for Okita’s wonderfully woven screenplay, together with its triumvirate of stellar performances. Similarly, cast and creator’s robust reputation should likely ensure the film secures healthy distribution across Asia and select western markets.

Plucky teenager Satoko Nakai (Himeno) is first introduced with a nebulizer thrust up her nose. She is being treated for allergic rhinitis, which immediately becomes a non-issue when her handsome classmate Hayase (Toharu Ogawa) appears beside her, ready to be administered a similar treatment. They hit it off famously, and although Satoko is initially put off when Hayase blanks her at school, their regular sessions at the ENT clinic soon bring them closer together.

Unfortunately, Satoko’s rhinitis interferes with her sleep, causing her to doze off at a kabuki performance she had been assigned to write a report on. Rather than turn in a blank paper, Satoko conjures up a work of pure fiction, which, much to her surprise, is warmly received by her teacher, Ms. Terao (Yoh Yoshida), who encourages her to indulge her passion for creative writing. She is tasked with penning a love letter to her favourite food, and the resulting ode to shiokara (fermented shrimp) is in fact a thinly veiled declaration of her blossoming adoration for Hayase.

Okita’s screenplay gleefully challenges cinematic conventions, persistently playing with the viewer’s comprehension of what is actually unfolding, and what is mere fantasy, bursting from the pen of this newly inspired wordsmith. While never allowing this metatextual mischievousness to derail the narrative, these ideas flow seamlessly into the second chapter, in which thirty-something film publicist Satoko Nishida (Arimura) writes and feasts on shiokara when not indulging her passion for ludicrously romantic K-dramas. We are told this is not the same person, and yet they share so many things in common.

At work, Satoko attempts to create a campaign for a new Korean baseball drama that her company is releasing, but after hours she is involved in an extramarital affair with a business associate, Muramoto (Joe Odagiri). That dalliance reaches a potentially lethal tipping point that leaves Satoko in the hospital, newly inspired to create a romantic fairytale of her own.

Later still, we are introduced to Satoko Iijima (Ishida), who again shares many defining features with her two namesakes, albeit with just enough subtle differences to keep the audience on the back foot. Happily married and the mother of three boys, Satoko has been playing the dutiful housewife for years, but when her youngest, Shota (Mansaku Takada), reveals that he will be moving out when he starts university, the prospect of being an empty-nester sends her into a tailspin. She reminisces about a boy she knew growing up, and from there is inspired to create a story of her own, which the film realises through a visually dynamic combination of live-action and stop-motion animation.

To reveal more of Okita’s endlessly surprising and playfully ambiguous script would be to rob audiences of the film’s numerous pleasures, which run the gamut from hearty belly-laughs to heartbreaking melodrama. The veteran storyteller, known for such surprising and rewarding works as “The Woodsman and the Rain” (2011) and “The Story of Yonosuke” (2013), not only dazzles with his dextrous interweaving of character and style, but also honors the craft of writing itself, spotlighting the texture and feel of paper, pencil and eraser. Even when his characters do use a computer screen, Okita shoots so tight on the cursor and characters, even their intricate composition appears tactile and sculpted.

A film about indulging our yearning to open our hearts and tell stories, not for the entertainment of others or financial reward, but as a creative and emotional outlet to nurture one’s own sanity and well-being, “Satoko Always” cannot help but inspire the creative voice inside us all. That it is also a film about women, lifting them up without any compulsion to push men down in the process, is the final flourish in a work that achieves much with a gently assured touch.