“Parent v. School System” is sadly a conflict that transcends international boundaries.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

Since 1992 Indianapolis has held its own celebration of cinema with the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater marathon every October of documentaries, shorts, narrative features, and animated works made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience, usually with an emphasis on uplift and positivity. Ever since the “International” modifier was added in recent years, their acquisition team steadily escalated their game as they’ve recruited higher-profile projects into their lineups. For years my wife Anne and I have talked about getting into the spirit of the festivities. This year we will do better. The festival’s 32nd edition will run October 5-15. I’ve committed to at least five different Heartland showings — one of them virtual in-home, while the others will screen at four different theaters throughout central Indiana…

Thanks to Heartland I’ve finally seen my very first film by acclaimed Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda. Years ago Shoplifters was in my Hulu queue for about ten minutes before it disappeared, because Hulu isn’t the best service for movies. My son saw that one as well as Nobody Knows and After Life, so he had an advantage over me as we watched Kore-eda’s latest drama, Monster. I have no basis for comparison, but my son thinks Monster might be his favorite Kore-eda film yet.

Shoplifters costar Sakura Ando (who’ll also appear in the upcoming Godzilla Minus One) rejoins Kore-eda to play Saori, a widowed dry-cleaning worker who has a strong bond with her young teenage son Minato (Sōya Kurokawa). Problems begin mounting at school among Minato, his young teacher Mr. Hori (Eita Nagayama), and a happy-go-lucky kid named Yoro (Hinata Hiiragi) who’s bullied because of his height and unflappable demeanor, which of course irritates bullies all the more. Things escalate to the point of necessitating a parent-teacher conference supervised by the principal (Yūko Tanaka), who’s just returned from a leave of absence. Mr. Hori and Minato have clashed more than once, but no one wants to talk about what actually happened beyond a surface detail or two. The lawsuit-averse faculty simply wants to suffocate Saori with a blanket of profuse vague apologies and move on, but their textbook bureaucrat-speak only inflames her confused concern into mama-bear outrage. One teacher’s offhand remark about single moms does not lighten her mood.

The plot descriptions I read before viewing suggested the unfolding of events might resemble Rashomon, but Kore-eda’s approach isn’t about reimagining events through unreliable filters. Reflecting life itself, Monster is a series of interlocking stories in which the participants can never watch the entirety of each other’s plots and subplots. Each character sees and knows only what they can see and know; the full truth is known only to those who see and know all. Over the course of two hours Kore-eda gradually escorts us through the respective experiences of Saori, Mr. Hori and the boys (plus a few interludes with the principal), beginning with a nighttime building fire at the heart of the city and later leading to a tsunami that obscures their vision further or washes away the detritus blocking their field of sight, depending on where they’re standing.

As with some of Kore-eda’s past films Monster again utilizes handheld cameras for intimate immediacy, keeping all the closer to each person as they’re centered in the narrative yet held at a remove from the input of others. As with Nobody Knows and Shoplifters, a key theme here is the separate worlds that children inhabit from adults, the entire lives they lead day-to-day yet can’t share, whether for the sake of secrecy or because they themselves don’t understand what they’re undergoing. Kore-eda and writer Yuji Sakamoto have crafted an intricate puzzle-box whose solutions aren’t open to one and all. Some characters can’t even perceive their own paths through the labyrinth until and unless they can glean insight from others. All the actors within it are up to the challenge, particularly the two youngsters whose relationship is a puzzle unto itself.

I faced one disappointment in this viewing that wasn’t the filmmakers’ fault. The Heartland rep who introduced the film to the audience told us it’d won two awards at the fabled Cannes Film Festival this year: one for Best Screenplay, and one that was itself a massive spoiler for anyone like me whose brain will seize even the strayest clues and run with them. The trailer held nuances of same, but I hadn’t watched that in advance. That cheat-code foreknowledge spurred my brain to try deciphering What’s Really Happening, as if it’d been boosted over the architected walls of Kore-eda’s humanistic maze. I much would’ve preferred to let him lead the way as intended.

…

Meanwhile in the customary MCC film breakdowns:

Hey, look, it’s that one actor!: The aforementioned Yūko Tanaka has also done voice acting for Studio Ghibli in Princess Mononoke and Tales from Earthsea. Otherwise that’s it from my limited vantage.

How about those end credits? No, there’s no scene after the Monster end credits, but they do confirm I wasn’t imagining it: yes, that was indeed the Toho logo at the front of the film. They do not, in fact, only release giant-monster films.

Also, mid-credits is the salute, “In memory of Ryuichi Sakamoto”, the celebrated composer who passed away in March, two months before this played at Cannes. I would’ve heard his work in such films as The Last Emperor, The Revenant, and After Yang, in addition to his final score here. Some pieces are recycled, but they fit the mood — a series of elegiac piano pieces pierced with the occasional intense feedback crescendo.

…

Other chapters in this very special miniseries:

• Jailhouse to Milhouse
• The Promised Land
• Fancy Dance
• A Disturbance in the Force
• Avenue of the Giants