Turning Away from the Fire: A New Look at Films of Kore-eda Hirokazu

"Through fire, everything changes."¹

Introduction

In Kore-eda Hirokazu's films, raging fires mark painful memories, and smaller ones invite momentary family gatherings. In my earlier essay "Kore-eda's Ocean View," I focused on scenes of water in films by this innovative director.² In this essay, I reexamine two of the same endings (of the films Maborosi no hikari/Maborosi [JPN, 1995] and Distance [JPN, 2001]) and then move on to a film that was released after the earlier essay's publication: Sandome no satsujin/The Third Murder (JPN, 2017). In these three Kore-eda films, fire turns troubling, and often inexplicable, disappearances into resolution, so living protagonists can move on. We ponder at length a transfixed meditation by a funeral pyre (Maborosi); the burning of a pier connecting current lives to a painful past (Distance); and the burning of the body of a man as an act of murder? justice? sacrifice to a greater good? (The Third Murder). The three raging fire scenes occur in lonely areas devoid of human habitation that offer no shelter from the elements. All three sequences are liminal sites of death that blend the dynamic energy of fire with the solace of water.³

To "set the stage," I take a sweeping look at several related topics: philosophies of fire, Japanese traditions involving fire—especially the fire festival—and several other films with key fire scenes. At that point, we will be well prepared to examine the culminating (or beginning) cathartic fires, and the intermittent smaller fires, in Kore-eda's films.

Figure 1.

Kanji (Chinese character) for "fire," Ran (Kurosawa Akira, JPN, 1985). Frame grab.

General Notes about Fire

One can find paradise in fire's movement or in its repose, in the flame or in the ashes.⁴

—Gaston Bachelard

As a living force, fire has a "Janus-like character."⁵ It is democratic, affecting both rich and poor. It is destructive, warming, purifying, transformative. The utilitarian (domesticated) fire—the fire of the forge and of agriculture—incites reverie, deep shadows, and enchantment.

But we must also consider wild fires, arson, the burning of books. Fire marks our history: Great Fire of London (1660), Chicago (1871), Dresden (1945), the fires after the Kantō Earthquake of 1923. A monumental painting by J. M. W. Turner captures the terrifying spectacle of the burning of the Houses of Parliament in London (Houses of Lords and Commons) on 16 October 1834. Spectators, including the artist himself, observed the progress of the flames from a safe perch along the banks of the Thames River. The fire started around 6 p.m. and raged for hours, partially because the low tide made it hard for firefighters to pump enough water to extinguish the flames.⁶

Fires can draw a community together in other ways. For example, the first "Burning Man" Festival began on a Los Angeles beach in 1986 and has continued annually until the present. In this modern-day festival, people put mementoes of

Figure 2.

The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16 October 1834, 1835. Joseph Mallord William Turner (British, 1775–1851). Oil on canvas; framed: 123.5 × 153.5 × 12 cm (48 9⁄16 × 60 ⅜ × 4 11⁄16 in.). Courtesy of The Cleveland Museum of Art. Bequest of John L. Severance 1942.647.

deceased loved ones in the "Temple of Stars" that is burned down near the end of the week-long event. Such innovative festivals help us recall the "clever disobedience" of Prometheus stealing fire for the sake of humankind.⁷ And his punishment.

Japan and Fire

In Japan, the connection between fire, spirituality, and the arts reflects either an inward focus or a communal spectacle.⁸ Before entering a Shintō shrine, devotees often brush smoke on themselves, as a form of symbolic cleansing. The hearth in the tea ceremony (ochakai) provides the hot water for the tea and a central focus for the ceremony. Traditional wood-burning kilns for...